Sleep in Heavenly Peace
by WinterSky101
Summary: Dean wants to have a nice, peaceful Christmas for once, but it seems like the universe won't let him. Post-8.08 (Hunteri Heroici) AU. Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone, and Merry Christmas! (If you celebrate Christmas.)**

**This is my contribution to the Supernatural fandom this holiday season. This is a twelve-part Christmas piece that will be posted over the twelve days of Christmas. I hope. The first few chapters don't really have the holiday spirit as much (more of the "oh my God my feels why would you do this?" spirit), but it gets more Christmas-y around chapter five. Enjoy!**

**Note: I changed the timing, so the events of "Hunteri Heroici" happened in mid-December. Deal with it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this. Though I was hoping for the rights to Supernatural as a Christmas present, they didn't come.**

* * *

It's two weeks until Christmas and Dean's definitely _not_ freaking out. No sir. No freaking out here.

Okay, maybe he's freaking just out a _little_.

See, he wants a nice Christmas this year. And he's got reason enough to have one. He, Sam, and Castiel are all together and in relatively good shape. No one's dead, crazy, or dying. All things considered, by Winchester standards, that's pretty good. Which, Dean's realizing, is kind of ridiculous; they should definitely have a higher standard for what's "pretty good." But that doesn't matter at the moment, because this Christmas _is_ going to be one where everyone's in pretty good shape and Dean wants to actually celebrate it.

Which is going to be difficult.

First off, they need somewhere _to_ celebrate Christmas. Normally, they'd go to Bobby's house, but considering it's burned to the ground, the closest thing to a "home base" they have would probably be Rufus's cabin. But that's a hell of a commute, since Dean and Sam are currently in the southeastern part of the country and Whitefish is practically in Canada. Dean's not sure where Castiel is; he hasn't seen him since Oklahoma City a few days ago. He's a little worried about it, what with Castiel's admission that seeing Heaven might make him commit suicide, but he's pretty sure that he'll know if Castiel does kill himself. He's not sure why, but he feels like something would feel different. He would know somehow that the world no longer had Castiel in it.

Damn, now that sounds ridiculously sappy. But it _is_ true. Dean and Castiel have their "profound bond" or whatever, and it does create a connection between them. Dean would know, the same way a part of him knew Castiel had died when he left him with Chuck years ago, even though he hadn't been there. But anyway, that's beside the point. Dean and Castiel's relationship, whatever the hell sort of relationship it is, has no bearing on what they're doing for Christmas.

"Hey Dean, I think I found a case," Sam calls over. Dean gets up from where he's basically staring at the computer - he started out by actually using it, then he started thinking about Christmas and got distracted - and goes to Sam's side. There's a news article open about mysterious deaths in Lafayette, Louisiana and two obituaries. From the quick scan, it looks like it's probably the work of a ghost. "Probably just a simple salt and burn, but it's something," Sam adds. Dean nods.

"Should we get Cas?" he asks. Sam raises an eyebrow.

"For a ghost? I think we can handle this on our own, Dean."

Dean doesn't want to reveal the real reason he wants to call to Castiel: he wants to have the angel with him. Just to make sure he doesn't return to Heaven and kill himself, of course. But Dean doesn't think Sam will understand, so he makes something up.

"Yeah, but Cas wants to be a hunter, right? He should go on cases with us." It's a pretty shitty excuse - a salt and burn is pretty self-explanatory, and Castiel can probably just poof the ghost away with his angel mojo anyway - but Sam seems to buy it. If he has doubts, he doesn't mention them.

"Sure," he replies. "You pray to him or whatever, I'll check us out of the motel." Dean nods and starts putting his things away. Sam grabs the motel room keys and leaves to go return them. While still packing, Dean sighs and starts to pray.

"Hey Cas, we've got a salt-and-burn in Lafayette. Wanna join us?" There's no response. "Come on, it's not the most interesting thing in the world, but you'll have to do it if you're serious about this hunter thing." Castiel still doesn't appear. Dean waits for a moment, still half-expecting the deep greeting of "Hello, Dean." When it doesn't happen, Dean sighs. "Way to be a dick, Cas," he calls. There's still no answer, not that Dean's expecting one at this point. He shoves the last of his stuff in his duffel bag and leaves the room. He passes Sam on the way, who's going back to clean his things out, and continues on to the Impala. His duffel goes in the back and Dean climbs in the driver's seat. His mind drifts back to Christmas again. Castiel would probably appreciate it if he brought at least a _little_ of the religious aspect into it, so maybe they could do a prayer or something. Dean guesses they'll have to celebrate in whatever motel they happen to be in that day, which isn't great, but it'll do. As for presents… Well, he doesn't know what the get for Sam, and how the hell do you pick out a gift for a Holy Tax Accountant like Castiel? Still, Dean's determined to make Christmas work. Somehow.

Sam slides into the passenger seat and Dean starts the car. They start driving. They're not far from Lafayette, but it's going to take at least an hour.

"So, why'd you really want to call Cas?" Sam asks. Dean looks over at his brother.

"What do you mean? If he's going to be a hunter, he'll have to get rid of ghosts. He's never really been on a boring normal hunt with us before."

"Bullshit," Sam replies. "That's not why you wanted him here. What is it? Are you in looooove?" Dean does _not_ blush at the teasing, elongated word. He doesn't. Really.

Well, maybe he blushes a little.

"No," he replies. Sam raises an eyebrow. "I'm _not_, Sammy."

"Then why are you desperate to have Cas here?"

"Look, Sam, this really doesn't concern you," Dean replies. Sam grins.

"Since when has that ever stopped me?" he asks. Dean sighs. His brother has a point. That's never really stopped either of them, actually.

"Look, back in Oklahoma, when you left Cas and me in the motel…"

"You two finally realized your feelings for each other and engaged in passionate-"

"Damn it, Sammy, this has nothing to do with Cas and I being in love!" Sam raises both his eyebrows this time. "Not that we are or anything," Dean adds belatedly.

"Suuuuuure," Sam replies doubtfully. "Well, if that's not it, then what's bugging you?"

"When I was talking to Cas, I asked him to go back up to Heaven and he said that if he did, he might kill himself," Dean snaps. "_That's_ what's bugging me. So forgive me for wanting him here so I can keep an eye on him."

Sam's eyes go wide. "He said he would kill himself?" he asks, his voice soft and horrified. Dean's grip on the wheel tightens. "But why?"

"When he was possessed by the Leviathans, he apparently screwed up Heaven even more than he screwed up Earth, if you can believe it. All the angels up there hate him and I'm pretty sure he hates himself more than all of them combined. So I'd like to have him here so I can watch him."

"Dean, I doubt Cas would appreciate being put on suicide watch," Sam replies, frowning slightly. Dean's grip gets even tighter. It's now so tight it hurts.

"If he didn't want to be put on suicide watch, then he shouldn't have told me he was going to kill himself," Dean forces out through gritted teeth. Sam doesn't mention it again and most of the rest of the ride is spent in silence.

They pull into a motel in Lafayette about an hour later. Dean's still in a bad mood, mostly due to the panic knotting in his stomach. Sam gets them a room while Dean pulls their bags out of the trunk. They drop off their stuff in the room, then they go their separate ways: Sam to research and Dean to look at the bodies.

Dean would never admit it, but he's still very, very worried.

* * *

Sam and Dean return to their motel after the salt and burn the next day - it was boring, but for something like this, boring is a good thing - to find a silent figure sitting on Dean's bed in the dark. Sam reaches for his gun, but Dean knows that silhouette.

"Cas?" he whispers. Sam looks at him, surprised. Dean flips the lights on. It _is_ Castiel, sitting on the bed and looking at his hands. He doesn't answer Dean.

"You're a little late if you wanted to help with the ghost," Dean says. He still gets no response and he frowns. "Hey, you okay?" Castiel still doesn't answer and now Dean's more than a little panicked. "Cas, you're scaring me. Talk to me, buddy."

"Dean, I don't think he hears you," Sam whispers. Dean looks at his brother in confusion.

"What do you mean, he doesn't hear me?" he asks. "He's right there. And he looks conscious."

"He looks like he's in shock," Sam says softly. He goes over to Castiel's side slowly. Dean follows him. "But I didn't know that could happen to angels."

"In shock from an injury?" Dean asks, confused. There doesn't seem to be a visible sign of a wound on Castiel. Dean's dropped his voice to little more than a whisper as well; he's not sure why Sam's being so quiet, but he figures he might as well do the same.

"I don't know. I would guess it's emotional, actually, but I'm not sure," Sam replies. He goes next to Castiel and crouches down until he's at eye level. Dean does the same. Castiel's eyes are open, but they're flat. Normally, even when he's trying to mask his emotions, Castiel has at least some of his feelings in his eyes. But now there's nothing. And to be honest, that's scaring Dean more than he thinks anything has scared him in a long while.

"What do we do?" Dean whispers. Sam shrugs, straightening. Dean stays crouched down for a moment longer, looking at Castiel. The angel doesn't seem to recognize Dean's presence.

"I don't think we can do anything," Sam replies as Dean returns to an upright position. His stomach is churning with worry. He hasn't been this nervous about anyone in a long time. "I think the best thing to do would be to let him snap out of this on his own," Sam adds. Dean's itching to do something - anything - but he knows Sam probably knows best.

"Alright," he says softly. "We'll try it your way."

"He should wake up on his own," Sam says, obviously trying to be comforting. It doesn't work. There's still that hint of doubt and that just makes Dean all the more worried. But he doesn't say anything about it, because he's a Winchester and Winchesters don't talk about their emotions like that. If anything, they pretend they don't have feelings. God knows Dean's done that many a time. This will just be another occasion where Dean shoves his feelings aside and pretends he doesn't have them in the first place. He can do it.

After two hours, Dean can't take it any more. "Sam, he's still not snapping out of it," he hisses. Sam bites his lip and sneaks a look at Castiel, who's still in the exact same position that he was in when the brothers entered the motel.

"What do you want to do?" he asks. Dean sighs.

"I don't know. Get him to wake up, I guess."

"Alright," Sam replies. "I'll go pay for tonight at the motel and get something to eat. You can deal with Cas."

"Why are you leaving?" Dean asks as Sam picks up the keys to the Impala. His brother looks back at him.

"When you two start kissing, I don't want to be here," he answers. Dean's spluttering an answer as Sam leaves, a smirk on his face. Through all of this, Castiel hasn't stirred.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean asks tentatively. Castiel makes no sign of hearing him. "Cas, can you hear me?"

There's no response. Dean sits down next to Castiel with a sigh. One of his hands goes to the angel's knee, but Dean barely notices it. "All right. I guess I'm just talking to myself. Awesome." Castiel still doesn't stir. "Look, Cas, I get that something bad happened when you weren't with us. But whatever it was, you need to snap out of it now. You're scaring me, Cas." There's still no answer and Dean's more worried than before. An idea comes to him. It's maybe a little too close to what Sam expects of them for Dean's comfort level, but he'll do it anyway.

Dean takes his hand back, so it's no longer on Castiel's knee. The angel doesn't react. Dean shrugs out of his jacket and flannel button down, leaving him in just his t-shirt. He pushes his left sleeve up and takes one of Castiel's hands. The angel still does nothing. Tentatively, Dean takes Castiel's hand and places it on top of the raised handprint on his shoulder. A feeling akin to an electric shock goes through Dean's body. He's felt it before to a lesser extent, but he's never had skin-to-skin contact with Castiel directly on top of the angel's mark. It's an incredible feeling. Dean sees Castiel's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. The minute change in expression makes Dean's gut unclench a tiny bit.

"Cas, come on. Snap out of it. I need you here, one hundred percent. I'm your charge or whatever. You're supposed to be here with me."

Castiel's jaw tightens visibly. It's all Dean can do not to let out a sigh of relief. He takes Castiel's hand in both of his. "Come on, Cas. You can do this. Come back to me."

"Dean." The single word slips through Castiel's lips and it opens a floodgate. Suddenly, the angel's entire body is trembling. If Dean didn't know better, he would say Castiel was close to tears. But he's never seen the angel cry before. He's not even sure angels _can_ cry. He's not sure what would be weirder, if angels could cry or if they couldn't.

"Yeah, Cas, it's me," Dean whispers. He squeezes Castiel's hand gently. "It's me. Come on. You'll be okay."

"Dean, there was a memorial," Castiel whispers. Dean's not sure what he's referring to. "For all the angels I killed."

Dean's blood runs cold. "You went back to Heaven?" he asks. No wonder Castiel's such a mess. Dean's just relieved he's still alive.

"There were so many destroyed," Castiel breathes. "Dean, I killed so many of my brothers and sisters."

"It's okay, Cas," Dean whispers. He's not sure what else he can say. "It wasn't you. It was the souls from Purgatory and the Leviathans controlling you."

"Was it?" Castiel asks softly. "I did not go on a random rampage, Dean. I only killed angels that had allied with Raphael. I showed enough presence of mind to only go for my enemies. I had enough control to pick my targets."

"That doesn't mean you were at the wheel," Dean replies. Even if he's wrong, he doesn't want to know it. Castiel laughs humorlessly.

"And what if I was?"

Dean doesn't have a good answer to that. He doesn't think there _is_ a good answer to that. Castiel sighs. Dean wracks his brains for something he can say to make Castiel feel better.

"Look, Cas, we'll deal with this together. Just… Don't do something like that without telling me first, okay?" Dean slings an arm around Castiel's shoulders. It seems like the right thing to do. To his surprise, it causes Castiel to hiss in a quick breath and stiffen. "Cas, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Castiel replies. His voice is strained. "I am uninjured."

"No one said anything about you being injured," Dean counters. Castiel looks back down at his hands.

"It is nothing, Dean," he reiterates. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Bullshit," he replies. Without giving Castiel any warning, Dean grabs the angel's trench coat and begins to pull it off. Castiel flinches in pain. "Cas, either you tell me what's wrong or I'll find it myself," Dean demands.

"It is nothing more than I deserve, Dean," Castiel whispers. Dean sighs and goes back to pulling off the trench coat, though he's more gentle about it. He pulls Castiel's button down out from where it's tucked into his pants and begins to undo the buttons. Castiel does nothing to help or hinder him.

When Dean pulls the shirt away, he can't help but gasp. Castiel's entire torso is one big, mottled bruise. Dean runs a feather-light touch down both of Castiel's sides and counts nine broken ribs. Going over each one causes Castiel to wince. "God, Cas, where the hell did all of this come from?" Deans asks. He wonders briefly if it was self-inflicted - an attempt at suicide, perhaps? - but he's not sure how Castiel could have done this to himself.

"There are many of those in Heaven who hold a grudge against me for what I did," Castiel replies. Dean's horrified. But this still doesn't explain why Castiel stiffened when Dean put an arm around his shoulders. As gently as humanly possible, Dean pulls off the suit jacket. When he goes to pull off the button down, he finds the back is stuck to Castiel with blood.

"Cas, what the hell happened?" Dean whispers. Castiel closes his eyes.

"I told you already. There are those who hate me for what I did." Dean's sickened by the explanation - this looks more like an attempt to kill Castiel than the bruising on his torso did - but he takes a deep breath and carefully peels the shirt away from Castiel's back. Castiel goes rigid and he bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds.

"I'm really sorry, Cas," Dean whispers as he finally manages to pull the shirt away. Castiel's back is covered in so much blood that Dean can't see the actual injury. He gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom, wetting it in the sink. As gently as he possibly can, Dean begins to wipe the blood away slowly, attempting to hurt Castiel the least amount possible. When Dean finally gets enough blood away to see where it's coming from, he gasps in shock again.

Diagonally across Castiel's back, from his left shoulder blade to his right hip, is a long slash. Dean feels bile rise in his throat, but he pushes it down. "Okay," Dean whispers, half to himself. "Okay, so I need a shit load of bandages and... Oh God, Cas, that's a lot of blood."

"Dean?" Castiel whispers. Dean moves over so he's sitting next to Castiel again, rather than being more behind him.

"What is it, Cas?"

"Dean, I…" Then Castiel's eyes roll up in his head and he pitches forward. Dean barely manages to catch him before he hits the ground.

So. An update on Dean's Christmas situation. It's two weeks before Christmas and Dean's in a motel in Lafayette, Louisiana with an unconscious angel on his hands (literally), and he's no closer to figuring out what to do for the actual celebration. It looks like this might be one of the worst Winchester attempts at Christmas yet.

* * *

**So, um, please don't hurt me. I know I hurt Cas (and I feel terrible about it), but this WILL have a happy ending. So Merry Christmas, please review (it would be a great Christmas present, hint hint) and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next installment!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my goodness! 13 follows, 3 faves, and 5 reviews in a little over 24 hours! You guys are the best! I love you so much! Here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. If I did, Destiel would be canon already.**

* * *

When Sam comes back almost an hour later - Dean has half a mind to yell at him for taking so long - he finds Castiel, bandaged and still unconscious, lying on Dean's bed. Dean's trying to bleach the blood out of the towel he used. Sam puts down the bag he's holding and goes over to Dean, taking the towel. "If you want to get the blood out properly, you should do it like this," he says, demonstrating. Dean glares at him.

"If you're so smart then _you_ do it, Samantha," he snaps. Sam frowns. Dean sort of wants to apologize - it's not Sam's fault that he's stressed out - but he doesn't. "As you can see, Cas went through hell," he says instead, changing the subject.

"What happened?" Sam asks as he washes the blood out of the towel. Dean sits on Sam's bed and drags his hand over his face.

"He went back to Heaven and some of the other angels decided to personally acquaint him with their fists. The one of them decided that he should get his back ripped open too. God, Sam, he's a mess." Dean covers his face with his hands. He knows his voice is muffled, but he keeps talking. "His torso is just one giant bruise and he's got what looks like a freaking sword cut across his back. It's from his shoulder to his hip, Sammy. If he wasn't an angel, he'd be dead."

"What do you want to do?" Sam asks softly. Dean groans.

"What I _want _to do is go up to Heaven and kill every single one of the dick angels that hurt Cas." Sam looks slightly shocked. Dean's not sure why he's surprised; Castiel is like another brother to Dean, and that's what he would do if it was Sam that had been hurt. "But considering we can't storm Heaven, I guess we should just wait for Cas to wake up. Once he does, if he's in good enough shape to travel, we should leave."

"I'll get everything packed," Sam offers as he wrings out the towel, which is definitely in better shape than it was before. Whatever Sam's doing, it's helping. Dean shakes his head in response to his brother's suggestion.

"I'll pack up. You rest. I know you didn't get much sleep last night, Sammy."

"Did you get any?" Sam counters. Dean shrugs. He didn't, but he doesn't have to mention that.

"I'll be fine." Sam doesn't seem to believe him, if his look is anything to go by.

"Dean, get some sleep. I'll wake you up when Cas wakes up." Dean sighs.

"My bed's been stolen by an angel," he argues feebly. Sam gestures to his bed.

"Use mine," he replies. Dean huffs and pulls his shoes off.

"Don't let me sleep too long," he instructs Sam, who only rolls his eyes. "I mean it, Sammy. Two hours, tops."

"I'll wake you up when Cas wakes up," Sam repeats. Dean sighs and closes his eyes. Almost instantly, he's out.

When Dean wakes up, he feels like it's only been a few minutes. A glance at the clock tells him he's wrong. "Sam, why did you let me sleep for three and a half hours?" he demands. Sam looks over from the table, where he's sitting with his laptop.

"I said I'd wake you up when Cas woke up, and he's still out." Instantly, any anger Dean might be feeling towards Sam is gone and replaced with worry for Castiel. It's been four and a half hours since Castiel passed out. Dean knows he should be awake by now. The fact that he passed out in the first place was weird enough, but for him to still be out? That's really bad. Then again, nine broken ribs and a giant slash _do_ tend to take a lot out of a person. Dean guesses it's probably the same with angels.

Suddenly, Castiel jerks upright. Dean goes to his side quickly and catches him right before he slams back down onto the mattress. "Cas, you okay?" he asks. Castiel's gasping in pain; it couldn't have felt good to move that suddenly. "Cas?"

"Dean," Castiel finally manages to get out. "I must leave."

Dean frowns. "We're leaving the motel as soon as you're ready," he replies. Castiel shakes his head desperately, sitting up again. This time he's slower and he doesn't look as if it hurt as much.

"I need to leave now, Dean. Alone."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "And how are you going to do that when you can barely sit up?" he asks. Castiel looks more panicked than Dean's seen him since Purgatory.

"I will find a way," Castiel replies. "But I cannot stay here."

"Why not?" Dean asks. Castiel tries to stand up and Dean half-forces him back down. Castiel can't summon enough energy to fight him.

"The angels will come after me," Castiel insists. Dean frowns.

"They didn't go after you before. Why would they come now?"

"Many angels were unaware that I had escaped from Purgatory," Castiel replies. "But now, they know I am alive and again on Earth."

"Wait," Dean cuts in. "If they didn't know you were back, then does that mean they weren't behind pulling you out?" Castiel shakes his head.

"It might have been the work of a small group of angels and done without the rest of Heaven knowing. But that is not the problem now. The problem is that many of the angels would like nothing more than to kill me, and if they found me with you, I doubt most of them would have any qualms about killing the Winchester brothers as well." The thought freaks Dean out a bit, though he won't admit it; he really doesn't want to go up against Heaven again. But he won't abandon Castiel.

"Alright," Dean replies. "We'll help you. If the Angel Brigade wants you, they'll have to come through us first."

Castiel shakes his head desperately. His blue eyes have worlds of emotion in them. "I can't be responsible for any more deaths, Dean," he half-begs softly. Dean frowns.

"Then we won't die, Cas. It's alright," he tries to reassure. Castiel doesn't calm down.

"The angels will not let you escape if you are with me," he protests. He's half hysterical and Dean finds himself wondering if Castiel's fully aware of what he's saying. Considering how badly he was hurt, it wouldn't be surprising at all to find out that he's been delusional since he woke up. But even if Castiel isn't aware of what's going on, he's still panicking and close to complete hysteria. Dean needs to calm him down before he does something ridiculous.

"Calm down, Cas," Dean says soothingly. He feels an urge to rub the angel's back, but he knows it'll only cause him pain. "It'll be fine."

"I am the cause of so many deaths, Dean," Castiel whispers in a choked voice. He almost sounds like he's about to cry. "I cannot be the cause of yours or Sam's."

"You won't be, Cas," Dean replies softly. "We'll be fine. It'll be okay."

Castiel takes a deep, shuddering breath and Dean's knows what he's going to do a second before he does it. "Don't you _dare_, Cas," he starts to threaten, but then there's the sound of wings flapping and Castiel is gone.

"Shit," Dean swears, getting up. He glares over at Sam. "Fat lot of help you were."

"Cas trusts you more than he trusts me," Sam replies as he stands up. "I doubt I would have helped at all." Dean doesn't want to admit that Sam's right. He's saved by a crashing noise outside their motel room. He races out the door, followed closely by Sam. Castiel is in an unconscious heap on the ground. His back, which Dean had bandaged to the best of his ability, is covered with blood again.

"Cas, you _idiot_," Dean mutters. He's not actually mad at Castiel, but he's worried and he'd rather show it like this than by actually revealing any emotions. He's sure he's not fooling Sam in the least, but it's his cover.

"What do we do?" Sam asks. Dean grabs one of Castiel's arms and drapes it around his shoulders. Sam does the same and the two of them half-drag, half-carry the angel back inside.

"I don't know," Dean replies as he and Sam lower Castiel back onto the bed. His mind is going a mile a minute. Staying put doesn't seem like the greatest idea, but Castiel doesn't look to be in any shape to be going anywhere. Still, if the angels get their hands on him again, he'll be even worse.

"Do we have any safe houses in the area?" Dean asks. Sam shakes his head. "Anyone we know we can go to?" Sam shakes his head again. "Goddamn it, Sam, you're not helping."

"Dean, there's no where to go," Sam replies, sighing heavily. "Rufus's cabin is a day and a half away and there's no one we can go to in the area." Dean's about to reply - he's not sure what he'd say, but he's sure it would be bitter and caustic - when Castiel lets out a little groan. Dean's by his side in a heartbeat.

"Dean," Castiel moans. He's still completely passed out. Dean finds himself oddly flattered that Castiel is calling out for him while unconscious. Then Castiel makes a little pained whining noise and Dean forgets any vanity and is fully concentrating on the angel again.

"Cas?" he asks softly. Castiel's eyes flutter open. He looks surprisingly lucid.

"Dean, I can hear them," he whispers. "The angels. They're planning to come after me." Dean frowns.

"Is there any way to hide from them?" he asks softly. Castiel looks like he has to think hard for an answer, which Dean knows is probably a bad sign.

"There are sigils," he finally mumbles. "Angel proofing ones. And others that should hide us." Castiel's voice is dangerously weak and Dean hates it.

"Dean," Sam calls. Dean lifts his head to face his brother. Castiel's eyes drift shut when he's not looking. "About an hour away is a hunting and camping ground. There used to be cabins, but they've been out of use for almost five years now."

"Squatting?" Dean asks. Sam nods.

"We can't really angel proof the motel without the staff freaking out," he replies. Dean sighs and turns back to Castiel, who's unconscious again.

"Damn it, Cas," Dean mutters. Sam looks worried.

"He shouldn't be passing out so much," he remarks. Dean glares at him.

"No shit, Sherlock," he replies sarcastically. He knows he's being mean and there's no reason for it. Sam's just trying to help. But making stupid remarks - does he think Dean doesn't _know_ that it's bad that Castiel can't stay conscious for over ten minutes? - isn't helping at all. Sam looks a little hurt and Dean almost apologizes. But in the end, he keeps the simple phrase to himself. He's Dean Winchester; he doesn't apologize. Not even to his own brother.

"So, out to the cabins?" Sam asks with a sigh. Dean nods.

"Guess so," he replies. "I'll carry Cas out to the car."

"I can do it," Sam offers. Dean feels a strange, possessive urge.

"I'll do it," he replies automatically. His voice is harsher than he means for it to be. Sam puts his hands up defensively.

"Okay, you do it." Dean feels guilty - _again - _but he doesn't say anything. He knows it's selfish and rude and wrong, but he doesn't apologize.

"Alright, check us out of the motel while I get Cas in the back of the car," Dean instructs. Sam nods and leaves the room. Dean grabs Castiel's clothes; his shirt seems destroyed beyond repair, but that trench coat's taken a lot of abuse too and it looks as perfect as ever. There's probably some angel clothes-cleaning-mojo that Castiel uses to make his clothes look so pristine when they've been shot at, stabbed, bled on repeatedly, etc. Dean wishes he had that; his clothes get ruined all the time.

Dean shoves Castiel's clothes in his duffel and slings the bag over his shoulder. Then he takes Castiel's right arm - he assumes that'll hurt less, considering the state of Castiel's left shoulder - and puts it around his shoulders. Castiel groans and starts to come to again. "Dean?" he mumbles.

"Right here, Cas," Dean replies, putting an arm around Castiel's waist. He's being as careful as he can, considering the state of Castiel's back, but he's apparently not careful enough; Castiel lets out a little moan as Dean tries to hold him upright. "Cas, you okay?"

"Dean, it hurts," Castiel moans. Dean clenches his jaw. He hates that he's probably hurting the angel more, but it has to be done.

"I know, Cas, but we have to get you to the car," he replies "Can you work with me on this?"

"I can try," Castiel replies. Dean tries to haul him upward. Castiel can only manage to stay standing for a few seconds before his knees give out and he drops, almost dragging Dean down with him. It's only Dean's quick reflexes that save the two from crashing into the floor. He quickly grabs Castiel, almost picking him up, and straightens, bringing the angel back up with him. Castiel looks at him with a frown.

"I-I apologize, Dean. I am not strong enough." Dean shifts so he's supporting much more of Castiel's weight.

"It's okay, Cas," he replies. "Do you think you can get out to the car if I help more?"

"Maybe," Castiel replies. His voice is very soft. He sounds like he's barely able to summon the energy to get the words out which, of course, worries Dean to no end. He can't have Castiel die on him. He just can't. _Cas is an angel,_ he reminds himself desperately. _It'll take more than this to bring him down._ Or at least, Dean hopes it will.

Getting out to the car is slow, almost painfully so, but Dean and Castiel finally make it there. Dean can tell that Castiel is struggling to stay awake, but he seems to be fighting a losing battle. "Okay, Cas," Dean says bracingly. Castiel turns to look at him. His blue eyes are clouded with exhaustion and pain, but he still seems to be mostly lucid. "I'm gonna put your trench coat down, then you can lie across the seats, okay?"

"Alright," Castiel replies, his voice still very quiet. Dean manages to open his duffel bag with only one hand and pulls out the trench coat. He lays it across the seats - it's a little sloppy, but it'll do - then he helps Castiel into the car. The angel's unconscious pretty much from the second his head hits the seat. Dean throws his bag in the trunk and goes back over to the motel room. Sam's already in the room, throwing his things together. Dean grabs his gun off the bedside table and tucks it into his pants. Then he grabs the beers that are in the fridge - what the hell, right? Christmas is a time of joy or whatever. Sounds like a good excuse to have a beer. Sam gives him a look as he puts the four bottles into the cooler, but he really doesn't think it's that bad. At least he's not drinking them. Even though he really wants to. Getting completely shit-faced sounds like a great idea at the moment, but Dean needs to drive and he doesn't want to crash Baby. Especially not with Castiel and Sam in her with him.

"How's Cas?" Sam asks. Dean shrugs.

"He's passed out in the back of the Impala. Not great, but I hope this whole sleeping thing he's doing is going to help him heal faster."

"Dean, he also might not live through this," Sam replies cautiously. Dean slams the cooler shut with far more force than necessary.

"He'll be fine, Sammy." Dean's tone clearly says that this is the end of the discussion. Sam seems to get this and doesn't try and bring it up again.

Dean brings the rest of his stuff back out to the Impala. Sam follows him with his bag. He slides into the passenger seat while Dean gets behind the wheel. "Get on the highway. Northbound," Sam says. Dean nods and pulls out of the motel. He can feel his Baby purring under him, but it's not as calming as it usually is. He can't calm down; Castiel is unconscious and hurt badly in the back seat. It's not a recipe for calm.

They arrive at the cabins a little over an hour later. Sam gets their stuff and Dean gets Castiel, who's still unconscious. They enter the cabin in the best condition, which basically means all the windows are intact. Sam locks the door on his way in. "What do we do with the car?" Dean asks. Sam sighs.

"Dean, we need to worry about ourselves, not your car."

"If the angels see my car, they'll know we're here," Dean snaps back. Sam looks mollified.

"Oh. That's true. Um, why don't you put the car in the barn we passed on the way out to the cabins?" he suggests. Dean nods and goes back out to the car. It only takes a few minutes to park the Impala in the barn and walk back to the cabin. Sam's started angel and demon proofing and has put up a few angel banishing sigils. Castiel is unconscious and lying on one of the dusty beds. They obviously haven't been used in years. Dean hates to do it, but he goes over to Castiel and shakes him awake gently.

"Cas, you said there were sigils to hide us from the other angels," he whispers. Castiel's eyes open. They're slightly unfocused, but they regain lucidity in a matter of moments.

"H-help me up," Castiel murmurs. Dean helps him to his feet, supporting most of his weight. Castiel staggers over to the window. Sam holds out his arm, which has a bleeding cut on it. Castiel uses it to draw a sigil that Dean doesn't recognize. Then he moves over to another window and puts up a different sigil. In all, he puts seven sigils on the windows. "We…we should be safe now," he whispers. "They shouldn't be able to find us." Then Castiel's knees give out and Dean barely manages to keep him up before he hits the ground.

"Okay, back to bed with you," Dean commands. Castiel doesn't fight as Dean brings him over to the bed and sinks onto it gratefully. But rather than lying down and passing out again, as Dean was expecting, he stays sitting up.

"D-Dean, I have to tell you…" Castiel looks like he's struggling to remember something. Dean frowns and drags a chair over next to the bed. He sits down, facing Castiel. The angel still looks to be trying very hard to remember whatever he has to tell Dean.

"Cas, what is it?" Dean asks. Castiel closes his eyes tightly.

"Why can't I _remember_?" he demands of himself angrily. Dean's frown deepens. It's not like Castiel to forget something, especially not something as important as this seems to be.

"I…I apologize, Dean," Castiel finally says. He looks worried. "I cannot recall what I was going to tell you. I simply know that it was important."

"Well, it'll probably come back to you," Dean reassures. "For now, we should probably change the bandages on your back, if you're up for it." Castiel nods, still looking concerned. Dean starts to unwrap the bandaging, then stops abruptly. "What the hell?" he whispers to himself softly. The bandages around the front of Castiel's torso are bloody. But the only injury there should be bruising. When Dean saw all of Castiel's wounds earlier, the only spot that was bleeding was his back.

Which begs the question…what's changed?

"Dean, what is it?" Castiel asks. Dean frowns and continues unwrapping the bandages around Castiel's torso. The angel hisses in pain as the bandages, which are partially glued to his skin by blood, are peeled off. And there, in the center of his chest, is a stab wound.

"Cas, where the hell did you get this?" Dean asks. Castiel looks at the wound.

"I…" He puts his fingers to his temples, obviously trying very hard to remember something. His fingers tighten in his hair, knotting in the thick strands. Then he looks up, blue eyes wide. "Naomi," he suddenly whispers, and after that, it's like a flood gate has been released.

"Dean, she rescued me from Purgatory and she made me tell her about what you were doing and I swear I didn't want to, but I had no choice, she did something and it made me do it-"

"Whoa, Cas, calm down," Dean interrupts. He only understood about half of what Castiel had said, but it didn't sound good. "What happened?"

"Naomi," Castiel repeats, looking miserable. "She's an angel. She's the one that rescued me from Purgatory. I don't know how, but somehow she made me tell her what you were doing. She's brought me to report to her a few times. When we had just saved Kevin from Crowley, and then when we were in the nursing home in Oklahoma City. She told me not to go to Heaven, but when I came back, I didn't remember. She was…less than pleased to discover that I had disobeyed her."

"So this is from her?" Dean confirms, looking closer at the wound in the center of Castiel's chest. It looks like this Naomi bitch literally drilled a hole through Castiel's sternum. "When?"

"In the car," Castiel replies. "She brings me to this white room up in Heaven and then has me back on Earth the same instant I left. But I don't think she can reach me with the sigils we have up. If she could, I'm sure she would have brought me up to Heaven to stop me from telling you this by now. I think the sigils are counteracting whatever she's done to my memory as well."

"Okay," Dean replies, thinking hard. _Great,_ he tells himself sarcastically. _Here's another angel we have to deal with._ But for the moment, they're safe and Naomi can't get her hands on Castiel, so they can deal with this later.

"Okay, Cas, I'm gonna clean this and bandage you back up," Dean states. Castiel nods. "Then…then I guess we can figure out what to do about your angel problem."

"It is none of your concern," Castiel replies. His voice is weakening again.

"Yeah, it is," Dean counters. "You're family, Cas. If someone messes with you, they mess with me and Sam too."

Castiel smiles slightly as Dean starts to bandage him back up. But the discussion will have to wait, Dean supposes, because the second he finishes wrapping new bandages around Castiel, the angel's out again. This seems like a more peaceful sleep than before, though, so Dean's not quite as worried. Very gently, he pushes a wayward lock of Castiel's hair out of his face, then he turns to face a very amused-looking Sam, who's been strangely silent this whole time.

"Not in love?" Sam asks sarcastically. Dean groans.

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

**So, um, I hurt Cas again. Oops. Please don't hurt me. I promise he will be all better in a few chapters! Though it might get worse before it gets better...**

**Please don't kill me! And please review! (Especially if you're planning on killing me; I'd like some warning.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**You guys are the best. 4 more reviews, 5 more follows and 3 more faves! I love every one of you so much. Though, um, you might not like me after this chapter. Sorry in advance.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I wish I did, but I don't.**

* * *

It's been a little over a week since Dean and Sam returned to their motel room to find a bloody and beaten Castiel waiting for them, and already the angel's almost fully healed. Dean refuses to admit it, but he's a little jealous; the broken ribs alone wouldn't have healed for at least a month if it had been him that was injured. And this is slow for Castiel; he's been forcing his Grace not to be very active so he won't risk having the other angels feel it. But still, he's basically back to normal. Which, while it's definitely good in that Castiel doesn't look like he's going to keel over every second anymore, also sucks because now he's talking about leaving. It's about a week to Christmas now and Dean's slightly worried that if Castiel leaves, he won't be able to find a better way to celebrate Christmas than just in this cabin.

Speaking of disappearing angels, out of the corner of his eye Dean sees Castiel rolling his shoulders. Then he moves them in a way that reminds Dean of a bird spreading its wings. Half a second later, Castiel hisses in pain and his shoulders drop back down to normal.

"You okay?" Dean asks. Castiel sighs.

"The wound on my back has not healed enough for me to travel," he replies. Then he frowns slightly. "And I believe it has reopened as well."

"Damn it, Cas," Dean swears, putting down the book he had been pretending to read and going to Castiel's side. The angel's back is the only thing that hasn't been healing quickly. His sternum looks alright, though it still seems to be paining Castiel occasionally; the angel explained it by saying that, as it had not been caused by an angel blade, it only did damage to his vessel. It hurt, but it was quick to heal. Naomi pulled him up vessel and all when she brought him to Heaven or wherever he was supposed to report to her. Dean's not sure he really understands, but Sam seems to get it and that's enough. But Castiel's back was done with an angel blade, so it pierced him all the way down to his true form. It was also a far more severe injury. Dean suspects Castiel's not helping the healing process with his inability to remain still and stop messing with his wings.

Sure enough, there's fresh blood spreading across the bandages on Castiel's back. Dean quickly debates whether or not to wake up Sam and decides not to; his brother's barely slept in the past week. Dean can take care of this himself.

Castiel is very still as Dean takes the bandages off his back. He always is, even though what Dean's doing must be painful. As Dean yet again pulls the bandages away, he wishes (not for the first time) that he could use stitches. But he can't; the wound's too deep.

When Dean gets a good look at Castiel's back, worry knots up his stomach. The slash has almost stopped bleeding again, but the skin around it is red and irritated. It looks like it's getting infected and Dean wants to smack himself for not cleaning out the wound with more than just water. He had assumed that an angel's wound couldn't get infected. Apparently, he assumed wrong.

"Okay, Cas, I'm going to have to clean this," Dean says. Castiel looks at him in confusion.

"Why?"

"It looks like it's getting infected," Dean replies. He gently touches the cut. It's hot and Dean wants to kick himself even more than ever. Castiel lets out a small, pained mewling noise and Dean withdraws his hand quickly. "Cleaning this will hurt like a bitch, but it should help you heal faster."

"Alright," Castiel replies. Dean picks up the small container of rubbing alcohol Sam had insisted they buy - _It works better than whiskey, Dean!_ - and some new bandages.

"You should lie down," Dean suggests, and Castiel dutifully lies down on one of the beds. 'Okay, before we do this, you need to promise me you won't fly off on me until you're healed." _And hopefully not after that either,_ he adds mentally. "And quit messing around with your wings."

"Yes, Dean," Castiel replies softly. Dean takes a deep breath and uncaps the bottle of antiseptic. Making the request then was really just trying to delay this; he knows it's going to hurt Castiel, and that in turn will hurt Dean.

When Dean lets the first few drops of antiseptic fall on Castiel's back, the angel lets out a cry that human vocal chords shouldn't be able to make. Dean knows it's Castiel's true voice and has to fight to keep from clapping his hands over his ears. The noise causes the empty bottle of beer on the table to explode. It also makes Sam jerk awake.

"What the hell?" he yells loudly. Dean ignores him.

"Cas, can you keep the angel voice to a minimum?" he asks. Castiel nods jerkily. He grips the sheet so tightly his fingers go white and he bites down on his lip so hard Dean's worried he's going to break the skin.

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam asks. He blearily gets up and out of bed. He goes over to Dean and Castiel and his eyes go wide. "What the hell?"

"Third time you've said that, Sammy," Dean replies. His voice is a little shaky and his attempt to lighten the mood fails miserably. Sam ignores it and looks more closely at Castiel's back.

"Dean, this is infected," he points out. Dean sighs.

"I know, Sammy. I thought it couldn't get infected, since he's an angel, but apparently it can." He doesn't make fun of Sam for pointing out the obvious; this is not a time for levity.

"This is really bad. The infection's set it. It'll take-"

"Great bedside manner, Sam," Dean says pointedly. Sam's mouth shuts with an audible click. It's almost comical and Dean probably would have laughed if not for the circumstances. But right now, the thought of laughing at anything is almost sickening.

"I know I am badly wounded," Castiel pipes in. His voice is wavering and not at all the rough constant tone Dean's used to. "Your conversation does not bother me."

Dean ignores that. Maybe it doesn't bother Castiel, but it bothers Dean. "Cas, I'm gonna use the antiseptic again. Do you want something to bite down on?"

"I shall be fine," Castiel replies. "I apologize for using my true voice."

"It's fine, Cas." Carefully, Dean lets a bit more rubbing alcohol fall on Castiel's wounds. The angel doesn't make a sound, but Sam does.

"You don't just pour it on him," he chastises. He grabs Castiel's button-down shirt - it's still bloody and they've been using it to wipe the blood away when Castiel reopens his back - and soaks it in antiseptic. He dabs it against Castiel's back and the angel bites down even harder on his lip. Dean can see blood welling up where Castiel's broken the skin. He has to fight the insane urge to punch Sam in the face; he's not hurting Castiel on purpose. Still, Dean's protective instinct is flaring up. He's shocked that the instinct for Castiel seems to be stronger than the one for Sam, but it's just because Castiel is in such bad shape. Probably.

Castiel barely makes a noise through the whole time Sam cleans his wound. When Sam finishes, he turns to Dean. "I need some water to clean this up," he says in a gruff voice. Dean gets the hint and goes to grab a bottle of water. Right before he grabs a bottle, he changes his mind and pulls out the holy water instead. Castiel is a holy being, so Dean hopes holy water will help him heal faster or something. Sam takes the bottle and uses the water to wipe away the blood. Castiel lets out a small sigh of relief as the holy water touches his injury and Dean feels almost triumphant that he found something to help his - um, he means _the_ - angel.

When Sam finishes, Dean takes over bandaging Castiel's back. He does it as carefully as humanly possible and feels rewarded when Castiel doesn't seem any more pained than he already was through the whole thing.

"Remember," Dean says softly as he finishes bandaging, "no flapping around until you're one hundred percent healed." Castiel nods slightly.

"I know," he replies. His voice is weak and drowsy. Dean feels the slightest hint of a smile curl his lip.

"Go to sleep, Cas." As if he's been waiting for permission, Castiel closes his eyes and is out in an instant. His hand unclenches around the blanket and his whole body relaxes. Dean fights the urge to do something stupid and girly like ruffle Castiel's hair and instead gets up. Sam looks a little guilty as he washes his hands.

"Cas knows I wasn't trying to hurt him, right?" he asks. Dean tightens his jaw slightly before answering.

"He knows. I told him it would hurt." Sam nods, but he doesn't look like he's all that comforted. Dean understands that; he often felt the same way after cleaning out one of Sam's wounds.

Sam yawns widely. "Go back to sleep, Sammy," Dean offers with a slight smile. "I'll keep watch." Sam gratefully lies back down on his bed and is asleep within moments. Dean sits at the table and sighs. His gaze falls on his sleeping brother for a moment; Sam is sprawled across the almost-too-small bed in a comical fashion, but Dean can't laugh right now. Then Dean looks over at Castiel. The angel's vessel has always seemed small, especially since Dean is pretty tall (though you wouldn't know it if you put him next to Sam), but now Castiel seems tiny. And a little part of Dean's mind is relieved - _relieved_ - that Castiel won't be able to fly off, because then he can spend some time with the angel.

Yeah, no doubt about it; Dean's definitely going back to Hell next time he dies.

* * *

A few hours later, after Sam's already woken up, Dean starts feeling worried. Well, he was worried before, but he's even more worried now. Because it's been _hours_ and Castiel is still out. The angel explained to Dean that, while angels don't _normally_ sleep, it does help them to heal faster. But still, Castiel hasn't slept for more than an hour, hour and a half tops, for days. Dean doesn't want to think about how much of a coincidence it is that Castiel's sleeping a lot when his back is infected, but he knows he has to.

Suddenly, Castiel lets out a little gasp. Dean goes to his side instantly, but Castiel's still asleep. Dean puts a hand on his forehead, just to check, and groans. Castiel's burning with fever. "Sam," Dean says. Sam is by his side quickly. "Can you get me a wet towel or something?"

"Sure," Sam replies, understanding the situation instantly. A moment later, he returns with a wet towel in his hands. Dean takes it and puts it on the back of Castiel's neck. He'd rather put it on the angel's forehead, but having Castiel lie on his back isn't an option at the moment. All Dean can do is try and keep the fever from rising any more than it already has.

Dean really hates feeling this powerless.

* * *

Castiel wakes up abruptly as a strong, crystal-clear message comes across the "Angel Radio," as Dean calls it. _Castiel, we've found you._ Castiel can feel some of his brethren right outside the cabin and starts panicking. Half a second later, Dean is by his side.

"Hey, Cas," he says. Castiel's vision is swimming and he can barely make out Dean's face, but he knows he has to tell him what's happening.

"Dean…angels outside…run!" For some reason, a coherent sentence won't come out of Castiel's mouth, but hopefully his garbled words will work just as well. Dean frowns in confusion and the small bit of hope that the hunter would get the message dies.

"Cas, we have wards up. The angels can't find us. We're okay. You're very sick and you're probably delusional. There are no angels here except for you."

"Dean, they're _here_," Castiel half-begs. He can feel the fever ravaging his body, but the angels he senses are not just a byproduct of the illness. They're actually there and-

_We're here to make you face your crimes, Castiel,_ a voice says in Castiel's mind. The angel fights the urge to whimper like a child. _We're right outside._ Suddenly, the entire cabin starts to shake. Dean looks shocked. Castiel's heart sinks. _The wards were a smart idea, but you can't hide from us._ The door flies off the hinges and hits the wall. Three angels enter, all holding angel blades. Castiel recognizes them as Baruchiel, Gzrel, and Raguel. His heart sinks. Sam and Dean won't have a chance against these three. The Winchester brothers don't seem to care, however, as Dean assumes a protective stance in front of Castiel and Sam comes out of nowhere - this fever must be affecting Castiel more than he thought if he hadn't been able to sense Sam - to join him.

"The Winchester brothers," Gzrel drawls. His vessel is a tall business man. The height probably would have been imposing if not for the fact that Sam stood taller than him. "Do you realize you are currently protecting Heaven's most hated? Even Lucifer himself did not kill as many angels in cold blood as Castiel did." Castiel feels each word piece him like a blade, but neither Sam nor Dean seem to be affected.

"Well boo-freaking-hoo," Dean replies sarcastically. "First off, that wasn't even Castiel. It was the souls from Purgatory in him. Second, the angels he killed were the ones that wanted to jump start the Apocalypse again and give Lucifer and Michael the chance to kill half of the world's population, so I'm really not all that upset." The three angels look horrified and pissed off. Castiel wishes he had been able to stop Dean from saying that before it came out of his mouth.

"We will give you one chance," Raguel says. He sounds almost sad. "If you leave now, we will not follow you. Our argument is with Castiel, not with you."

"If you have an argument with Cas, you have an argument with," Sam replies firmly, and Castiel would feel touched if not for the circumstances. As it is, he's more annoyed. Don't Sam and Dean see that they'll be alright if they just sacrifice him? It's no more than he deserves, certainly. And now the Winchesters are going to be dead because of him. Castiel tries to stagger to his feet, thoughts of what he could possibly say racing through his mind - _I'll go with you, you can do anything you want, you can kill me, just leave the Winchesters alone, please don't hurt them_ - but a dizzying bout of pain wracks through his body and Castiel falls back down on the mattress before he's even raised himself over a foot.

"Well, if you won't take our offer, you leave us no choice," Raguel says, sounding almost regretful. Instantly, there's a flurry of action; Gzrel lunges at Sam and Raguel sighs and goes over to Dean, who quickly readies himself to fight. And Baruchiel, who seems to be in charge, goes over to Castiel, angel blade slipping into his hand. For a moment, Castiel puzzles as to why Baruchiel is the one calling the shots - Raguel is a more powerful angel than he is - but he only has a moment to wonder before he's forced to try and defend himself. In his weakened state, he knows it'll be hard.

Baruchiel leans over him, a twisted smile on his face. Castiel's never gotten along with the other angel, but he never thought it would come to this. He calls his angel blade into existence, which takes far too much effort, and just manages to block the blow that Baruchiel tries to kill him with. The angel frowns and stabs downward. Castiel barely manages to move out of the way. Baruchiel sighs.

"Castiel, you can't keep running forever," he says with a sigh. Castiel summons up all of the energy he can and grips his blade tightly.

"I'm not going to," he hisses. He stabs up and is just barely able to send the blade all the way through Baruchiel's neck. The angel looks shocked for a moment before a bright light half-blinds everyone in the room.

"No!" Gzrel yells. He tries to get to Castiel, but Sam blocks his path and continues fighting him. Raguel just looks sad. Castiel struggles to his feet. Raguel is still half-heartedly fighting Dean (Castiel wonders if he was reluctant to go on this mission and if that's why Baruchiel was in charge) and Gzrel is trying very hard to get past Sam. Castiel staggers forward. There's still adrenaline coursing through his veins and he can probably summon up the energy for one more act. He grips Dean's shoulder, unthinkingly putting his hand on top of his mark, and grabs Sam's arm. The brothers look shocked, but Castiel barely notices it as he struggles to open his wings. It hurts almost as much as it did when the other angels ripped open his back the first time, but he manages to spread his wings. Gzrel and Raguel can see them, but Sam and Dean can't. Gzrel lunges for Sam and Castiel yanks him backwards. He can do that with relative easiness. Flying is an entirely different matter; he knows he won't be able to get far. He concentrates on the barn he knows the Impala is in and tries to bring Sam and Dean there.

As he flaps his wings to take off, he screams.

* * *

One second, Dean's fighting an angel and holding his own far easier than he thought he would, then the next second he's supporting an unconscious angel in front of the Impala. Sam looks as shocked as he is. He's also supporting Castiel, who's bleeding heavily again. "You stupid child," Dean whispers. He's not sure why he insults Castiel basically every time the angel hurts himself, but he suspects it's partially because Castiel is such a self-sacrificing martyr (which means he fits in with the Winchesters pretty well) that he often makes himself worse in trying to save someone else. This is a prime example of it. "I told you not to fly," Dean adds softly, even though Castiel can't hear him.

Sam doesn't comment on how Castiel saved both of their asses by flying. "What should we do?" he asks instead. Dean closes his eyes for a moment.

"Okay, we need to get Cas somewhere safe, so you should start driving."

"Me?" Sam asks, sounding shocked. Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and tosses them to Sam.

"Yes, you. I'll sit in the back and try and patch Cas up. Once we've got a good amount of distance between us and the dicks with wings, we'll stop and figure out what to do next."

"Okay," Sam replies. He slides into the driver's seat as Dean brings Castiel into the back. The angel groans but doesn't regain consciousness. He's burning with fever and Dean hates himself, yet again, for not cleaning out Castiel's wound first thing.

Dean bandages Castiel's back as carefully as he can while the car is moving. The angel stays unconscious for the entire thing. After they've been driving for about an hour, Sam pulls into a rest stop.

"What do we do now?" he asks, turning in the seat. Dean opens his car door.

"First, we swap places. I'll drive. You can try and find another place for us to squat in. Maybe some more abandoned cabins or something. I'll keep going East, so try and find something in this general direction."

"Will do," Sam replies, getting out from the driver's seat.

"Any change in Cas's condition and you tell me, okay?" Dean says sharply. Sam sighs.

"I know, Dean. I will."

Still not feeling entirely comfortable with this arrangement, even though he came up with it himself - Dean trusts Sam with his life, but he wants to be with Castiel - Dean gets into the driver's seat. He pulls the Impala back onto the highway and drives off, trying his hardest to ignore the labored breathing coming from the back seat.

* * *

**Sorry about all the breaks in this chapter; it's a little choppy. And, um, sorry about hurting Cas. Again. I know you all probably hate me. I hate myself too, trust me. But Cas will recover soon! I promise! Don't kill me!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, guys, there's something I forgot to mention last chapter. The three angels that went after Castiel were Baruchiel, Gzrel, and Raguel. According to the site I get most of my angel information from (angelsghosts .com(/)angel_names), Baruchiel is an angel with power over strife, Gzrel is an angel who revokes any evil decree against another in Heaven, and Raguel is an angel who watches over the behavior of angels whose name means "friend of God." I thought they seemed like appropriate angels to go after Castiel, a so-called traitor to Heaven.**

**Anyway, here's the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I cry myself to sleep every night because of that.**

* * *

Castiel is going to die.

Dean's trying his hardest to stop it from happening, but he's only human. There's only so much he can do. And Castiel's fever has steadily risen since it started two days ago and it's not breaking. Between Sam and Dean's ideas, they've done everything. An ice water bath, wet cloths on the angel's pressure points, fever meds… They've tried cleaning out the wound on Castiel's back, but it continues to remain open and infected. Nothing has worked. So, while Sam goes out and gets food, Dean's trying out his last, desperate idea. Praying.

"Look, God, I don't know if You're listening," Dean starts, feeling like an idiot. But for Castiel's sake, he'll try anything. "And if You are listening, I don't know if You give a damn. But…Cas is dying, and I can't do anything to stop it, and I thought that if anyone could…it would be You." There's no response and Dean sighs. At first, he's upset that it didn't work, then anger boils in his stomach. "Cas has given up _everything_ for You!" Dean yells at the sky. "The reason he's like this in the first place is because You wouldn't get off your ass and tell the angels what the hell You wanted! That whole civil war thing up in Heaven could have been avoided if You had just told the angels if You wanted the Apocalypse or not! And so Cas had to take matters into his own hands, and so what if he messed up? So what if he chose the wrong thing? At least he did _something_, which was more than You did. You owe him more than to just let him fade away and die here, in an abandoned hunting cabin in the middle of freaking nowhere!"

"I agree," replies a voice that Dean knows. He turns around in shock. Surely it can't be… But it is.

"Chuck?" Dean asks, surprised. "We thought you were dead!"

"I'm not dead," Chuck replies with a slight chuckle. "And I'm not exactly Chuck either." Chuck - or maybe not-Chuck, considering what whatever-the-hell-it-is just said - raises a hand and suddenly images and phrases are bombarding Dean's mind. The loudest one is a single word. _God_.

"You're God?" Dean asks. Chuck smiles. No, wait, _God_ smiles. Holy crap this is weird. God is smiling at him. Like, _the_ God, not just a pagan one. It's difficult for Dean to wrap his head around.

"Wait. If you're God, then why didn't you help us when we needed to stop Lucifer?" Dean demands. "And why didn't you help when Lucifer was on Earth? Or when we were fighting Eve? Or when the Leviathans were trying to eat the entire human race? Or when your prophet was kidnapped by the King of Hell?" Chuck/God's eyes narrow and Dean's suddenly worried he's going to go all Old Testament on his ass.

"I helped you whenever I could. When you wanted to go after Sam and stop him from killing Lilith, I told you where they were. Every time Castiel died, I brought him back to life for you. And you accuse me of not doing anything for you? Who do you think asked Death to make an exception for Sam and pull his soul out of Hell?"

"None of that would have happened in the first place if you had done your job as God!" Dean yells back. Chuck/God looks really pissed and Dean's sure it won't be long before he gets smote or something.

"You pray to me to save Castiel, then you yell at me. It's a wonder I even considered saving Castiel."

Dean feels the blood rush from his face. "You're not going to save him?"

"Even if I wanted to, I really couldn't. Castiel has killed his brothers and sisters. That is one of the worst crimes an angel could commit. You should be glad I haven't expelled him from Heaven." Chuck/God looks regretful, but Dean can't feel bad for him. Castiel is _dying_ and it seems as if his only hope left is going to just stand by and do nothing.

"Oh, and instead you leave him to die. That's so much better," Dean replies sarcastically. Chuck/God sighs.

"Dean, I like Castiel. He has faith, and he's believed in me even when he had no reason to. But I really shouldn't save him."

"You owe him," Dean hisses. "You agreed that you owe him. Save him." Dean's voice cracks. "Please,' he adds brokenly. Chuck/God sighs again.

"Well…" He goes over to Castiel and places a hand on the angel's forehead. Castiel moans softly and weakly tries to move away from the contact. "Do not fight me, Castiel," Chuck/God whispers. He adds something Dean doesn't understand; it sounds like it's in Enochian. Then a warm golden glow starts to envelop Castiel.

"What are you doing?" Dean demands. The glow dies down and Castiel is still now. He looks more peaceful, but Dean's not sure if that's good or bad.

"I just performed a Christmas miracle," Chuck/God replies. "Castiel is healed. You're welcome."

"Thank you," Dean says, feeling humbler than he has in a long time. Chuck/God smiles slightly.

"I can also help you out with your warding. No offense, but it's not going to do much against any angel with a good amount of power."

"Thank you," Dean repeats. Chuck/God spreads his arms and the same gold glow creeps out and into the walls.

"I know you wish to properly celebrate the birth of my son. I think you, Sam, and Castiel could do with some downtime. The wards I've put up will fall on December 26th, but until then, you'll be shielded from all angels, demons, and other supernatural creatures."

"What do I tell Cas and Sam?" Dean asks. Chuck/God shrugs.

"Tell them the truth?" he suggests. Dean doesn't really have a better option, and anyway, when God tells you what to do, you should probably do it.

"What are you going to do now?" Dean asks. Chuck/God sighs.

"Perhaps I ought to return to Heaven. It seems I have left the angels to govern themselves too soon."

"That sounds like a good idea," Dean replies. He knows he's probably pushing his luck, but he adds, "Do you think you could maybe help Cas out up there? You know, get the angels off his trail? And get Naomi to stop doing whatever she's doing to him?"

"I could protect him from persecution from Heaven," Chuck/God replies. "But if he ever returned, I would not be able to do anything."

"He'll stay with us," Dean promises. Chuck/God smiles.

"If you ask him to, I'm sure he will." Before Dean has the time to puzzle out what that means, Chuck/God starts to glow for a third time. "Castiel will wake soon. Tell him that as long as he has faith in me, I shall have faith in him." Then Chuck/God disappears, leaving Dean alone in the cabin with an unconscious - but at least no longer dying, thank God (literally) - angel.

Castiel wakes up before Sam gets back from shopping. Dean is by his side before he's even fully conscious. "Hey, Cas," he says as the angel blearily opens his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel…" Suddenly, Castiel looks panicked. "Dean, what did you do?" he demands. Dean frowns.

"What do you mean?" he asks. Castiel glares at him.

"I feel completely normal. What did you do?"

"I…you're not gonna believe this, but I prayed."

"You prayed," Castiel replies, sounding highly skeptical. Dean nods.

"I prayed and God was listening. Chuck is God, by the way. Crazy, huh?"

"I…I remember now," Castiel says, frowning. "There was a hand on my forehead, then a voice told me something in Enochian."

"What did He say?" Dean asks, confused in spite of himself. Castiel looks slightly embarrassed and he gets out of the bed rather than answer. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving," Castiel replies shortly. "Just because I'm healed doesn't mean the other angels have stopped searching for me."

"God helped with that too," Dean says quickly. He can't let Castiel leave. "He put wards up. They'll last for a few days."

"How long?" Castiel asks, frowning.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what God said to you," Dean offers. He knows his ultimatum is ridiculous, but he hopes Castiel is naïve enough to fall for it. As it so happens, he is.

"My father told me to…" Castiel refuses to meet Dean's eyes and instead stares at a knot in the wood behind Dean's head. "He told me to check if the amulet in my pocket was hot."

"The amulet?" Dean asks, confused. "You mean my amulet? But you don't have that. I threw it out…" Dean's voice trails away as Castiel slowly takes the amulet out of his pocket. "How the hell did you get that?"

"After I gave you the amulet back and left, I returned to your motel room. You were already gone. I noticed that the amulet was in the trash and so…I took it."

"Why?"

"I don't know!" Castiel replies, sounding a little upset. "But I didn't want it to be thrown away, so I took it out of the trash can and put it in my pocket. And I've kept it ever since."

"What about when you exploded? Did God put it back in your coat?"

"Apparently," Castiel replies. He's still studying the knot in the wood. Dean wishes he would look at him; he missed looking at Castiel's beautiful blue eyes. And that's probably the gayest thing he's ever thought (and about an _angel of the Lord_, no less) so Dean shoves it out of his mind. "He put everything else back the way it was, so He must have reformed the amulet as well," Castiel continues, unaware of Dean's thoughts. "And when the Leviathans took over my body, I suspect God also intervened to make sure that it would not be lost. I don't know why, but He did."

"So my amulet didn't get buried in some landfill or something," Dean muses. Castiel shyly holds out the amulet.

"Here," he says. Dean frowns in confusion. "I thought you would want it back," Castiel adds, correctly reading Dean's expression. "You do want it, don't you?"

"Is that why you kept it?" Dean asks. "So you could give it back to me?"

"Yes," Castiel replies. He's a terrible liar.

"Truth, Cas?" Dean asks. Castiel takes his eyes away from the knot in the wood and starts staring at the floor instead.

"I…" Suddenly, the door opens loudly and Sam walks in, laden with shopping bags. Dean silently curses his luck. It seems like every time he and Castiel are having an important conversation, Sam bursts in before they can finish it.

"Dean, I-" Sam suddenly stops and looks shocked. "Cas?"

"You'll never guess who popped in," Dean says conversationally. Sam looks at him, a lost expression on his face. "Chuck."

"I thought Chuck was dead?" Sam asks, looking from Dean to Castiel.

"He's not," Dean replies. "Actually, he's God."

"What?" Sam demands. He looks to Castiel instead. The angel nods slightly to verify Dean's story. Sam looks shocked.

"But how?" he asks. Dean shrugs.

"Don't know. But my amulet burned in His presence and He healed Cas, so I think He's the real deal."

"Your amulet?" Sam asks. "The one in a trash can in that crappy motel…" His voice trails off as Castiel holds up the amulet, still refusing to make eye contact with anyone. "How the hell did you get that?"

"He fished it out of the trash after we left the motel and he's kept it ever since," Dean explains. Sam nods, with the air of someone who's just been hit in the head.

"Ah. Of course," he replies, sounding dazed. Castiel looks at Dean with worry on his face, though he still doesn't look Dean in the eyes.

"Should he sit down?" he asks. Sam goes over to the table and puts the bags down, then sinks into a chair. He still looks shocked.

"Guess that answers that," Dean replies softly. "Sammy, you okay?" he adds in a louder voice.

"God is real," Sam states. Dean nods.

"Yup."

"And He's Chuck," Sam adds. Dean nods again. Sam looks horrified.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asks.

"I threatened God with a gun," he whispers. Castiel quickly looks just as horrified as Sam. Dean just sighs.

"When?" he asks. Sam looks at him with wide eyes.

"When we went to the Supernatural fan convention," he replies softly. "I told Chuck not to publish more books. If he did, I said we would find him and we had guns. Dean, I threatened _God_ with a _gun_!"

"It's fine, Sammy," Dean replies dismissively. Castiel looks at Dean in surprise. Dean takes the opportunity to catch the angel's eyes before he can look down again. Their mini-staring contest lasts for a few moments before Castiel breaks and looks down. Dean's surprised; normally he's the one to back down from a staring contest with Castiel.

"God also put up wards around the place. He says they'll last until December 26th," Dean adds. Castiel frowns in confusion.

"The day after Christmas? Why?"

The words that Chuck/God told him are ringing in Dean's ears. _Tell them the truth_. "I was sort of thinking that we could have a Christmas celebration this year. And apparently God approves, since He's giving us some free time. He says nothing supernatural can find us. No angels, no demons, no nothing."

"So God wants us to celebrate Christmas," Sam confirms. Dean nods.

"How do you celebrate Christmas?" Castiel asks. Dean and Sam both look at him.

"Have you never celebrated it before?" Dean asks. Castiel looks a little embarrassed.

"I celebrated Christmas with my wife when I still thought myself to be Emmanuel, but she was very pious, so we went to mass and prayed. I doubt you two do the same."

"Yeah, not exactly," Sam says with a slight smile. He's obviously remembering the presents Dean gave him last time they celebrated Christmas. Dean feels himself blushing a little. Okay, so maybe porn magazines aren't the _classiest_ things to give your little brother for Christmas, but they're awesome and every man wants them, even if he won't admit it to anyone. Dean knows that for a fact.

"We normally just put up a Christmas tree or something that can pass as one and we give each other presents," Dean says. Castiel nods, seeming to be taking in the information.

"And we drink eggnog," Sam adds. "Sometimes it's spiked. And it just so happens that I grabbed a carton of eggnog in the store today. I was feeling festive."

"Great," Dean says. He goes over to the bags. Sam gives him the carton and he puts it in the cooler with his one remaining beer.

"Put these in there too," Sam adds, tossing Dean a bag with a few apples in it. Dean makes a face but put the bag in the cooler.

"I don't understand how you eat that rabbit food," he remarks. Sam sighs.

"Leave me alone," he whines. "Go chat with your angel or something. Finish the conversation you two were having when I came in. It looked pretty intimate. Am I going to have to leave the cabin?"

"Bitch," Dean remarks. Sam laughs.

"Jerk," he replies. Despite the insults, Dean does go over to Castiel, who's sitting on the bed with the amulet in his hands. He's running his fingers over the little horned head that makes up the charm. It seems to be a practiced motion and Dean wonders how often Castiel would do that when he would be alone.

"So why did you keep the amulet?" Dean asks. Castiel doesn't take his eyes off the little charm, but his fingers stop abruptly for a moment before continuing their path, now shaking slightly.

"I don't know," Castiel replies. Dean sighs.

"Come on, Cas. A real answer. That's crap and you know it. Why did you keep the amulet?"

"Because…" Castiel's voice trails off. His fingers stop in their casual path around the horns.

"Because what?" Dean asks. Yes, he's being really pushy. No, he doesn't give a damn. He's a Winchester. He gets answers however he can.

"Because it was a reminder of you. It was a reminder of why I rebelled. It was a reminder of everything I was fighting for," Castiel babbles. Once the first sentence is out, the next ones follow quickly. "Whenever I was doubting myself, or doubting our cause, I would take out your amulet and remember that there was goodness in the world and that was what I was fighting for."

"Cas…" Dean's voice trails off. Castiel looks up at him through his lashes.

"I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable," he says softly, shyly. "Would you like your amulet back?"

"Keep it," Dean decides. He debates on whether to add the next sentence for a few moments, then it slips out from between his lips without him wanting it to.

"I have a feeling you're still going to need it."

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**So I saved Cas this chapter.**

**Bet you guys love me for it.**

**Love me enough to give a review.**

**Hint hint.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So this one's a little shorter, but I liked the stopping point and I knew if I wrote more, it would end up being really long. It's more lighthearted than the past ones (which I hope is a treat) but it's still a Supernatural fic, so there is some angst as well. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. And I'd love to get the rights or something, but I probably never will. Sad face.**

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Dean's told Sam and Cas the truth. The _whole_ truth. It feels almost weird to do so, but hey! God told him to. The only thing he didn't mention was strange remark that God made right before He left. Maybe Dean was wrong, but it sounded like God was implying something that Dean had thought about on occasion, but not often. By basically saying that Castiel would do whatever Dean asks makes it sound like the angel…well, it's a crazy thought, but it almost sounds like Castiel's in love with Dean when you put it like that. Which Dean's sure isn't true, but at the same time…

"Dean?" Castiel asks softly. Dean jumps and looks at Castiel, who's back in his normal outfit, which is fully repaired. The angel looks a little confused by Dean's reaction. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Dean replies. "What is it, Cas?"

"I…" Castiel shifts his weight from leg to leg, looking awkward. Sam discreetly looks up from his computer. Dean catches him watching and glares. Castiel doesn't notice; he's refusing to look at Dean. Again. This new no-staring-into-Dean's-soul behavior is actually freaking Dean out a bit. He's so used to Castiel always staring into his eyes as much as he possibly can. The last time Castiel avoided eye contact that Dean can remember is back when he was working with Crowley. Dean's fairly certain that nothing like that is happening now, but he can't be a hundred percent sure, and that's what's scaring him.

"Cas, spit it out," Dean says. It's a bit gruffer than he means it to be. Castiel shifts his weight again. "Damn it, Cas, either say whatever you want to say or don't!" Dean snaps. He's not angry, not really, but he's pretty stressed at the moment, between Christmas coming up and whatever the hell God meant before, and when Dean's stressed, it tends to come out in anger.

Castiel looks like he's been slapped. "I apologize for bothering you," he says in a stiff voice. He turns sharply on his heel and goes into one of the bedrooms, the one he used when he was injured. Dean's planning on trying to claim it, since he insisted Sam take the other one.

The door to the bedroom doesn't slam, but the soft click as it closes seems louder than any slam could be to Dean. He groans and goes over to the cooler. There's only one beer left, but now seems as good a time as any to drink it. Dean pops the top open and takes a long sip from the bottle. The alcohol doesn't burn his throat on the way down like the whiskey Dean normally drinks, but the beer is also better than the crap that he often gets, so it's a good trade off. Dean takes another sip and sits back down at the table.

"Go talk to him," Sam says, not looking up from his computer. Dean looks over at his brother.

"What?" he asks. Sam sighs and closes his laptop.

"Go talk to Cas. You're just going to mope and drink until you do."

"I will not!" Dean protests. Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Yes you will. Go talk to Cas, Dean. You're going to have to do it at some point. And I really don't want to deal with you two dancing around the topic until you do, so you should do it now."

Dean sighs. He takes another swig from the beer bottle, then he puts it down on the table and goes over to the bedroom door. He knocks, then enters before Castiel can say anything. He thinks he hears Sam sigh from behind him, but he ignores that, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says softly. Castiel is sitting on the bed, looking down at his hands. He doesn't look up as Dean enters.

"Dean, I do not wish to speak at the moment," Castiel says in a stiff, emotionless voice. If he thinks he's getting rid of Dean that easily, he's wrong. Dean ignores Castiel and goes to sit in the chair next to the bed. He sat there for hours, watching over Castiel when he still had a fever.

"Cas, I just-"

"I wish to be alone, Dean," Castiel interrupts in a firm voice. Dean sighs.

"I just want to say-"

"Dean, please leave me-"

"I'm trying to apologize to you, you dick!" Dean yells. Castiel looks shocked. Dean wants to smack himself. "Shit," he swears softly.

"You wish to apologize?" Castiel asks. Dean nods, looking down. "But you never apologize," Castiel remarks, sounding confused.

"Hey!" Dean counters. "I apologize sometimes!"

"It's a rare event when you do," Castiel replies. Dean can't argue with that.

"Yeah, well, Sam told me-"

"Oh," Castiel replies, looking back down. "Sam told you to."

"Yeah," Dean replies. Then he realizes where Castiel's thoughts are going. "But that's not why I came in. I mean, it is, but I would have apologized anyway and I'm just making a big mess out of this, aren't I?"

Castiel smiles slightly. His face straightens again a moment later, but at least it's something. "Yes, you are," he replies.

"Can we just restart?" Dean asks. Castiel smiles again. This time, it lasts. "Alright, I'll take that as a yes. Cas, I'm sorry that I was being a dick to you. I'm just stressed out about a lot of random shit and you know me. When I'm stressed, I lash out."

"I understand," Castiel replies. He's still got a hint of a smile on his face. "And I apologize for not allowing you to speak."

"So what did you want to say before?" Dean asks. Castiel looks down. "No, none of that," Dean adds sternly. "Look at me and ask me what you want to ask."

"I just wished to know…" Castiel's voice trails off. "It's silly, really," he says, trying to avoid eye contact again. Dean puts two fingers under the angel's chin and tilts his head back up.

"I don't care if it's the stupidest, most trivial thing in the world. I want you to tell me."

Castiel's eyes meet Dean's. "I wanted to know what it was like to be in the presence of God," he mumbles. Dean frowns in confusion. "I have only been in His presence when I was first created and then when I was with Chuck, but I did not know I was in the presence of my father at that time. I was wondering how it felt for you."

"Oh." Dean's not exactly sure how to answer this. Castiel looks down.

"You don't have to answer. It's alright." Dean ignores Castiel and tries to think of how to word how he felt when Chuck/God was there. He's not exactly sure how he can articulate it.

"It felt…warm, I guess," he says after a few moments. "Almost like being hugged or something. It kind of reminded me of when I was really little and my mom would hold me while I fell asleep." Dean's not sure why he's saying this - he doesn't even talk about his mother with Sam - but the words keep spilling out of his mouth. "And he did this glowing thing a few times, whenever he was doing a miracle or whatever. And that felt like sunlight. Like, you know, when you're on the beach and you're just relaxing and lying on the sand. I don't know, that's the best way I can describe it." Castiel's eyes are closed. "Cas, you okay?"

"Continue please," Castiel whispers. Dean thinks hard, searching for words.

"When he smiled, it was like…you know when there's a really cold wind, then it stops and it's still and nice?" Castiel nods slightly. "It was like that. And when he looked at me, it felt like he could see right into my soul. And it felt…well, safe." Dean doesn't mention how good that made him feel, because he had barely ever felt safe in his life that he could remember. The last time he had felt safe, truly safe, was probably back before his mother died. Once you find out that the imaginary monster under your bed isn't actually so imaginary after all, feeling safe is a rarity. And once you start going and picking fights with those monsters, feeling safe almost never happens.

"Thank you," Castiel whispers. His eyes are still closed and Dean sees, to his shock, a single tear slip down the angel's face. He hadn't known it was even possible for an angel to cry. He finds out new things about Castiel all the time.

"Hey, Cas, it's okay," Dean says, going to sit on the bed next to Castiel. He takes the angel in his arms and holds him as Castiel starts to cry in earnest. "It's okay, I've got you," he whispers. "It's all gonna be okay."

"Please don't let me go," Castiel whispers softly. "Please stay with me, Dean."

"I won't leave you," Dean promises. "I'll stay with you, Cas. You're okay."

Castiel draws in a shuddering breath and tries to stop crying, but the tears keep streaming down his face. "I'm being ridiculous," he whispers. Dean rubs his hand in circles around Castiel's back.

"First off, you're not," he says softly. "And even if you were, it wouldn't be a problem. Sometimes you just have to cry, Cas."

They don't say anything else as Castiel slowly regains control and stops crying. When he pulls away, for a moment he looks as if he's just been sobbing his heart out, then he looks completely normal again. Dean envies the ability to wipe away all traces of tears; he wishes he could do that sometimes.

"Dean, I-" Suddenly, they hear the door to the cabin open and someone walk in. Castiel's eyes go wide and suddenly his angel blade is in his hand. Dean grabs his gun, which is still on the table beside the bed, and checks to see if it's loaded. It is. Without even saying a word, Castiel knows to wait to open the door until Dean is by his side. Once he's there, they share a look, then Dean opens the door and dashes out, safety off on his gun, which is pointing out. Castiel flies over to the door and holds his angel blade at the ready. All of this is done before they realize that their "intruder" is a very freaked-out looking Sam.

"What the hell, guys?" he demands. "I thought you knew I went out!"

"You went out?" Dean asks, lowering his gun slightly. Castiel puts his arm back at his side, but he keeps his angel blade for the moment. This is probably Sam. There's a 90% chance it is. But the other 10% is what makes Dean not turn the safety back on with his gun quite yet and is what keeps Castiel's blade out.

"Yeah, to see if I could find a tree. Which I did find." Sam gestures behind him to a small pine tree that he was dragging into the cabin. "You can put the gun down, Dean. It's me."

"That's what you would say if you weren't you," Dean replies in a low voice. Sam sighs.

"What do you want me to do? I'm Sam Winchester, I'm Lucifer's intended vessel, I have demon blood from when I was six months old and Azazel bled into my mouth, I jumped into Hell to trap Lucifer and came back out soulless."

"That's not exactly something only Sam would know," Dean says. Sam sighs.

"You want something only I would know? Fine. When the Leviathans caused Cas to blow up two years ago, you had nightmares about it every night. For the first week or so, you would wake up screaming Cas's name. After a while, you told me they were over, but you kept having them for months. Is that good enough for you?"

Dean nods once, sharply. He puts down his gun. Castiel looks shocked. "Dean, did you really…"

"Yeah, Cas," Dean replies in a gruff voice. "Watching your friend explode tends to induce nightmares, in case you didn't know."

"I did not deserve that," Castiel says softly. "You should have forgotten. I did not deserve to be remembered so fondly. I did not deserve to be remembered at all."

"Stop with the 'I deserve it' and 'I don't deserve it' bullshit, Cas," Dean snaps as he puts the gun, now with the safety back on, on the table. "Maybe you screwed up, but you're still our friend. Now Sam, where are we putting this tree?"

"I was thinking we could put it sort of in the center of the room," Sam replies. Dean grabs the tree and drags it over with Sam. Castiel watches them with his head tilted to the side in confusion.

"Here?" Dean asks, holding the tree up. Sam nods. "Now how do we get it to stay up?"

"Oh. Right," Sam replies, looking embarrassed. "Maybe we should prop it up against a wall instead."

"That'd probably work better," Dean agrees. He drags the tree over to the wall and props it up. Sam looks at it and nods.

"That'll work. Now what should we use to decorate?"

"I don't know," Dean replies. "Cas, any ideas?"

"What do you mean, decorate?" Castiel asks, looking even more confused. Dean's jaw drops.

"You've never decorated a Christmas tree before?"

"I told you, I've only celebrated Christmas once before," Castiel replies with a frown. "And my wife was not a celebratory type. We merely prayed to the Savior to save this world from the sins that humans commit."

"Well _she_ sounds like a bundle of laughs," Dean replies sarcastically. "I hope she was at least a good lay."

"A good what?" Castiel asks. Now it's Dean's turn to look confused.

"A good lay," he repeats. Castiel still seems puzzled. "You know, she knew how to please."

"I doubt you mean that in the way I'm thinking," Castiel replies. Dean frowns.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"Well, she made a beef stew that was quite pleasing-"

"Yeah, we're not thinking of this in the same way. Come on, Cas, this is embarrassing."

"Dean, just say it in a way he'll understand," Sam cuts in. He's watching the exchange in amusement. Castiel just looks more and more puzzled. Dean groans.

"Was she good when it came to doing it?" he asks.

"Doing what?"

"For the love of God, Cas!" Dean yells as Sam bursts into laughter.

"I love God," Castiel replies, not seeming to understand exactly what Dean means. "I would have thought you would as well, considering-"

"Was your wife good when it came to sex?" Dean interrupts. Castiel looks at Dean in confusion.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asks. Sam's practically in hysterics. Dean feels close to smashing his head into the wall.

"That's what I was trying to say the whole time, Cas," he says in a deceptively patient voice. He's not feeling patient at the moment - far from it, actually. Castiel looks confused.

"Then why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"Because it's less awkward when you use euphemisms!" Dean snaps. "But tell me, cause now I really wanna know: was your wife good at sex?"

"I wouldn't know," Castiel replies. Dean gapes at him.

"You mean you two were married for a year and you never had sex?"

"She was very pious. She thought we shouldn't make love until we were ready to have a child. I did not wish to procreate, so we abstained."

Dean's shocked. "Don't mind Dean," Sam says to Castiel. "He can't imagine a relationship working without sex."

"That's not true!" Dean replies. Sam raises an eyebrow.

"If you were dating a girl - which would be weird enough on its own - and she didn't want to have sex, how long would you stay with her?"

Dean shrugs. "But it's different for me," he points out. "Unlike certain angels, I'm not a million-year-old virgin."

"And we know that all too well," Sam replies. Castiel is watching their exchange with his head tilted in that birdlike fashion he has.

"Is something wrong with being a virgin?" he asks, sounding a little self-conscious. Dean instantly feels bad.

"No, there's nothing wrong with it," Dean replies. "I'm just…not a virgin. And there's nothing wrong with that either."

"We know, Dean," Sam says in a weary voice. He turns to Castiel. "Don't listen to Dean. Have you seriously never decorated a Christmas tree before?"

"No, never," Castiel replies. Sam grins.

"Alright. Then you better learn how."

The next few hours are spent with the three of them trying to create makeshift ornaments for the tree. Finally, at the end, Dean grabs a piece of paper and draws a quick sketch. Then he puts the paper up on the top branch of the tree. Sam looks at it and chuckles. Castiel tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"What is that?" he asks. Dean grins.

"A picture."

"Of what?"

"What do you think?"

Castiel looks closer at the picture. "It looks almost like a crudely drawn depiction of my vessel. But with wings. And a halo."

"You got it," Dean replies, grinning wider.

"But why must I be on top of the tree?"

Dean can't handle that question asked in that serious a voice, and before he knows it, he's in hysterical laughter. Sam is too, and Castiel's watching them with his head tilted to the side, asking every so often what exactly is so humorous.

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**So I hope this was a welcome interlude, considering what the past four chapters were like! Review if you liked it! No flames if you didn't, please.**

**Oh, and by the way: I got the "For the love of God, Cas!" "I love God" line from Texts from Cas on Tumblr. You can find the rest of the texts at mishasminions . tumblr .com(/)tagged/iCas. I would suggest reading all of them; they're hilarious!**


	6. Chapter 6

**So since last chapter was short, this one is long. Yay! I hope you like it! Not as much Cas and Sam in this one, but it was necessary to have it like this for the second half of the story to progress properly. Sorry (but not really).**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine, alas!**

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It's two days before Christmas, and Dean still has no idea what to give either Castiel or Sam. He knows he wants to get them something special and he wants to get something better than a porn magazine for Sam, but he's not sure what that is. Sam has something in his bedroom that no one is allowed to see and Castiel is being very secretive about something he's apparently been working on while everyone else is asleep, but Dean still doesn't know what to give as presents. And considering even Castiel, who's never celebrated a proper Christmas before (the one with his wife doesn't count; if they didn't even do a tree, it wasn't really Christmas), is giving presents, Dean has to do so as well. So, on December 23rd, Dean goes out to get presents for Sam and Castiel. He feels kind of lame - really? Getting presents two days before Christmas? - but he goes out anyway. He tells Sam and Castiel he's going out to get groceries, since they do need them, and leaves before either one can protest. He knows he's kind of being a jerk; because he's left the house and the protection of the wards, neither one can follow him. Castiel can't go past the protection of the wards or the other angels will sense him and the brothers have decided that, just in case, they'll never leave Castiel alone in the cabin. If the other angels come, they'll have more of a chance if there's two rather than just one.

Dean gets the Impala out of the garage - a legitimate garage this time, not just a barn - and drives into the town. There's a Wal-Mart, so he goes in there first. Wal-Mart should have cheap gifts, he assumes. And Wal-Mart's got everything, so if he can't find something for Sam and Castiel in there, he probably won't find something anywhere.

The store is surprisingly quiet, considering what the day is. Dean expected for there to be a lot of people doing last minute shopping, but he was wrong; there's maybe two dozen other people, not including the employees. Now he feels like even more of a loser; he thought he would at least be in the company of others who left their shopping for to the last minute, but instead he's almost alone.

"Doing some last minute shopping?" a voice asks from behind him. Dean turns around to see a blonde girl, probably around twenty, smiling at him. He smiles back, discretely looking over her appraisingly. She's hot.

"Yeah. And you?" he asks. The girl shakes her head.

"Nah, I work here," she replies, pointing out the nametag pinned to her shirt. Dean nods.

"I didn't notice that," he replies, and the girl giggles. "Well, Emily," he asks, reading the name off of the nametag, "would you like to help me find some gifts?"

"I'd love to," Emily replies. "But first, you need to tell me your name. I don't like it when someone knows my name and I don't know theirs."

"My name's Dean." He doesn't offer a last name, since Emily didn't. And anyway, he really shouldn't say he's Dean Winchester, considering the killing spree Leviathans went on while using his name almost two years ago.

"I'd love to help you, Dean," Emily says with a smile. "So, who are you looking for presents for?"

"My brother and a friend," Dean replies, snagging a shopping basket from the pile. "And I've got no idea what to get for either of them."

"Well, what are they like?" Emily asks, walking deeper into the store. Dean follows her.

"Sam, my brother, is a major nerd, so maybe I could get him a book or something," Dean muses aloud. "And then Cas…well, Cas is pretty weird."

"Is Cas short for Cassandra or something?" Emily asks. Dean shakes his head.

"It's short for Castiel. A biblical name," he adds in response to Emily's confused expression. "He grew up in a very religious house. He's actually never celebrated a real Christmas before. You know, with a tree and presents and everything."

"Well, in that case, you should find him something special for his first Christmas," Emily replies. "Is he your boyfriend?" she asks nonchalantly as she walks into the men's clothing section. Dean almost chokes.

"No, definitely not," he replies. Emily blushes.

"Oh. I just thought, you know, he might be, from the way you were talking about him. And I don't have a problem with that or anything."

"Neither do I," Dean replies. "But Cas and I are not dating."

"So I'm assuming you're single, then?" Emily replies as she starts looking through a pile of t-shirts. Dean grins.

"I most definitely am," he replies. Emily's definitely flirting with him, and he'll flirt back. She's a hot girl. Maybe she looks to be a good dozen years younger than him at least, but she's almost definitely legal, so Dean doesn't mind all that much. And Emily doesn't seem to care either, so it's all good.

"Well, my shift is over in twenty minutes, so if you're doing shopping by then…" Emily flashes him a seductive smile and Dean gives her his signature, smoldering half-smile in return.

"So, what do you think your brother would like?" Emily asks, quickly back to business. Dean shrugs.

"No idea."

"Well, aren't you helpful," Emily grumbles under her breath. Dean grins and puts his hands on her hips.

"I'm thinking about other things right now," he whispers. Emily giggles.

"Come on, Dean. If you can't focus on finding presents for your brother and your friend, I might have to punish you."

"Is that a promise?" Dean whispers, putting his lips right against Emily's ear. The girl pushes him away half-heartedly.

"Come on, pay attention," she scolds. "You need to find presents. Christmas is in two days."

"Well, I'm getting an early present in twenty minutes, so…"

"Focus!" Emily scolds again, smacking his hand lightly. Dean grins.

"Alright. My brother probably would like a book. Like a dictionary or something. He'd love to read it." Emily giggles. "And Cas…well, something religious, maybe? He's pretty into God and all that."

"I'm assuming he already has a copy of the Bible?" Emily replies, leaving the men's clothing section. Dean snorts.

"He's probably got the whole book memorized."

"Does he like jewelry?" Emily asks. Dean shrugs.

"He's never really worn any. I don't know." Dean doubts it, though; when Castiel was borrowing Dean's amulet, he never put it on. "I don't think he does."

Suddenly, Emily smiles widely. "I think I know just the thing." She starts walking quickly across the store. Dean follows her. They get to the books and she holds out a copy of the Bible. Dean frowns.

"I thought we already agreed he wouldn't need a copy," he says. Emily grins.

"That's no ordinary copy. Open it up." Dean flips open the book and finds it's full of beautiful pictures as well as the traditional text. It's even a King James version, so it's all written in old-fashioned language that Castiel will probably appreciate.

"This looks great. How much is it?"

"It's on sale. Only twenty-five dollars. And you can use my employee discount if you want, which is an extra twenty percent off."

"Sounds good to me," Dean replies, putting the book in the basket. Emily grins.

"Now we just need to find something for your brother, then I can give you your present." Dean grins at the low, seductive tone. Emily starts to walk away, but Dean's eye has been caught by another book. He picks it up with a grin and starts looking through it. The title is _An Encyclopedia of Monsters, Ghosts, and Other Things That Go Bump in the Night_. As Dean flips through the book, he finds himself laughing at the ridiculous depictions of the monsters and completely false ways of repelling them.

"I think I found something," he calls to Emily. She turns around and he holds up the book. "It's an inside joke I have with my brother. He used to be really interested in monsters and stuff, and I still tease him about it sometimes," Dean lies smoothly. "He'd get a kick out of this."

Emily shrugs. "If you say so," she replies. Dean puts the book in his basket and goes to the cash registers. Emily rings him up, giving him her employee discount as promised, and Dean passes over a fifty dollar bill to pay for the presents. Considering he's already told her his name, Dean can't exactly give her a credit card issued to Jacob White without some suspicion. Emily gives him back the bag and he grins at her.

"I'm leaving," she calls over to her manager, who nods distractedly and waves a hand. Dean waits for her to grab her coat before going out to his car.

"Ooh, is that an Impala?" Emily asks as Dean puts the bag in the back seat. He turns around to look at Emily in surprise. "Sixty-eight? No, sixty-seven. Definitely sixty-seven. That's a beautiful car."

"She's my pride and joy," Dean replies. Emily grins.

"I can see why. I wish I had a car like that."

"What do you drive?" Dean asks. Emily blushes.

"My mom's old Subaru Outback," she replies. "It's not much, and it's nothing like an Impala, but it gets the job done."

"Where is it?" Dean asks, looking around. Emily laughs.

"I don't drive it to work, silly! Nothing in this town is more than ten minutes away from anything else. It's a seven minute walk from my house to here."

"Well, do you want a ride back?" Dean asks. Emily grins.

"If it's in that beauty of a car, then hell yes." Dean grins and opens the passenger door. Emily sits down and Dean goes back around to the driver's seat. There's nothing visible that would freak her out; he's sure of that.

"Now, where is this house of yours?" Dean asks. Emily grins.

"When you pull out, turn left. It's not even a minute away by car."

"Sounds good to me," Dean replies. He leans over towards Emily. "I'm not very good at waiting." Emily grins as Dean turns on the car and pulls out of the parking lot.

Emily's right; the drive is very short. Dean pulls into the driveway of the house that she directs him to, a lovely little white colonial. Emily grins and unlocks her door while Dean presses a kiss to her neck. She fumbles with the key. It takes twice as long for her to open it as it would have for Dean to pick the lock, probably at least partially because of Dean's distractions.

When Emily finally gets the door open, a little black ball of fur jumps at her. 'Hey!" she cries. "I'm sorry, it's just my cat," she tells Dean apologetically. She scoops up the cat in her arms and scratches between its ears. "Aren't you a good boy," she whispers. Dean looks at the cat and almost does a double take. Its eyes are a pure blue with a brightness that can only be matched by one being. Castiel.

Dean shakes the thought out of his mind. He's here to have sex with Emily, not think about Castiel. Speaking of Emily, she puts the cat back down and pats it on the head gently. It darts away and Emily looks up at Dean.

"Sorry about that. I hope it didn't ruin the mood."

"It's fine," Dean replies. Emily grins seductively.

"Now, where were we?"

A moment later, Dean finds himself getting dragged up the stairs while still kissing Emily. When they get to the top of the stairs, Dean sees a picture of an angel. He looks at it with wide eyes. Must everything in this house remind him of Castiel when he's trying to get laid?

"Oh, that was my grandmother's," Emily says breathlessly. "She loved anything with angels. Now come on. If you think that's good, you should see the main attraction." Dean follows Emily into her bedroom. Hanging from one wall is a beautiful dream catcher with feathers on the end. It reminds Dean of when he first met Castiel and he saw the shadow of those giant, amazing wings. The day-by-day calendar on the desk is still open to Thursday, December 20th. Castiel is the angel of Thursday. There's a flip phone sitting on the desk as well. Castiel used a flip phone back when that was how Dean contacted him. In fact, Dean's pretty sure Castiel used the same model.

_Will you shut up about Cas!_ Dean yells at himself mentally. Here he is, with a beautiful, willing girl in front of him, and all he can think about is that damn angel.

"Is something wrong?" Emily asks. Dean looks at her and sighs. He can't do this. He's not quite sure why, but he just can't.

"Look, Emily, you seem like a nice girl, but-"

"What scared you off?" Emily asks, sitting on the bed. Dean sighs.

"Nothing. It's just… I can't do this. I'm really sorry, but I just can't."

"It's okay," Emily replies with a sigh. "I mean, you're a hot guy in his thirties. What would you want with a twenty-two-year-old who already lives alone with a cat?"

"It's nothing about you," Dean reiterates. "It's just… I really can't do this. It's not you, it's me, as cliché as that sounds."

Emily grins. "You couldn't think of anything better than that?" she replies. Dean narrows his eyes playfully at her.

"Hey, you're the one that's well on her way to being a crazy cat lady at twenty-two," Dean shoots back. Emily laughs.

"Yeah, that's true," she replies. Dean grins.

"So why don't we go downstairs and you can tell me why a pretty girl like you is living all alone with a cat?"

"And you can tell me why exactly you 'just can't do this'," Emily replies. Dean sighs.

"Fair enough, I guess."

The two return down to the living room and sit down on the couch. The cat jumps up into Emily's lap. "What's his name?" Dean asks.

"Jimmy," Emily replies. Dean stares at her.

"You've got to be kidding me." Jimmy, just like Jimmy Novak, Castiel's vessel. This has to be more than just a coincidence. Dean suspects God's hand is somewhere in it. Apparently He _really_ doesn't want Dean to have sex with Emily for whatever reason.

"What's wrong with the name Jimmy?" Emily asks, sounding a little self-conscious. Dean shakes his head.

"Nothing. It's just…" Dean can't bring himself to say it aloud.

"Is this part of why you can't have sex with me?" Emily asks. Dean nods begrudgingly. "Tell me. Please?"

"Everything in your entire freaking house reminds me of Cas," Dean finally says. Emily frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he has really bright blue eyes, just like your cat. And his middle name is Jimmy. Well, James, but that's what Jimmy's a nickname for." Dean thinks "middle name" is a better explanation than "the vessel he inhabits and didn't I mention he's an angel of the Lord and he uses a vessel while on Earth?"

"Well that's a weird coincidence, but I don't see how my cat is somehow everything in my house," Emily replies. She hasn't called him crazy yet, so that much is good.

"It's not just that," Dean replies. "Castiel is traditionally the name of the Angel of Thursday. You've got a giant picture of an angel at the top of your stairs and the calendar on your desk is still on last Thursday's page. You've got the same phone he has." Dean doesn't mention the feather; that would be hard to explain and rationalize. "And Cas does the same freaking head tilt that your cat just did!" Dean's starting to freak out now. At first he thought it might all be a coincidence, but Jimmy just did the same head tilt Castiel does when he doesn't understand something. There's more to this than just coincidence.

"Do you think you're maybe looking for these things, and that's why you're seeing them?" Emily suggests. Dean frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean most people wouldn't notice that my calendar was still on Thursday's date, or realize that I have the same phone as their friend. At least they wouldn't if he was just a friend."

"Are you saying I'm in love with Cas or something?" Dean demands. Emily shrugs.

"I don't know. I just know that it's very strange that you would notice those things."

"Well, I'm not in love with Cas, so you can forget that." Because there is no way Dean's in love with Castiel. That would be ridiculous. Dean's straight, first off. He's not, nor has he ever been, interested in guys. Okay, so there was that one guy's ass he checked out outside that store, but it was a really nice ass. And maybe most straight men don't obsess over Doctor Sexy, M.D. as much as he does, but damn, it's a good show and Doctor Sexy is freaking sexy. And yeah, he might have worn lace panties at one point and liked it (just a little bit!) but that doesn't mean he's not straight.

Holy shit, Dean's definitely not straight. Or not exclusively, at least.

"There's nothing wrong with being in love with another guy," Emily says soothingly.

"What do I do if I am?" Dean asks. Hypothetically, of course. Emily grins wickedly.

"It's Christmas. Just put up a shit ton of mistletoe and catch him under it. Then you can see if he likes kissing you."

"Devious. I like it," Dean replies. Emily grins. "Look, I'm sorry about the whole not-sleeping-with-you thing, but…"

"I get it," Emily replies."I know how you're feeling. I remember figuring out I was bi. It's a pretty crazy feeling, huh?"

"You're bi?" Dean asks. Emily glares at him.

"Hey! No judging. You are too."

"I'm not, I'm just…"

"That's why I live alone with my cat," Emily adds as Dean's voice trails off. "My family's really religious. When I came out five years ago, they told me I could either forget this 'liking girls nonsense' or I could leave. So left."

"I'm sorry," Dean replies. Emily smiles slightly.

"That's sweet. But you don't have to be. I'm happier without my family than I was with them. And I've got Jimmy, so I'm not lonely."

"Still. That sucks."

"Well, you know, at least I'm not locked in a cupboard under the stairs like Harry Potter or something," Emily replies with a grin. Dean grins back.

"You totally remind me of my friend Charlie. She's the biggest Harry Potter nerd I've ever met."

"I could challenge that position," Emily says with a smile. Dean grins wider and pulls out his phone.

"Okay, that's it. I'm giving you Charlie's number. Call her and say Dean says she should talk to you. Do you like Star Wars?"

"Love it," Emily replies, smiling.

"Tell her I said you'd dig the Princess Leia tattoo. Oh, and tell her I said the dicks are gone."

"'The dicks are gone?'" Emily repeats, her voice highly skeptical. Dean nods.

"Those exact words. She'll get what it means." Dean scrawls down Charlie's phone number from his contacts. He knows Charlie asked that he never contact her again, but Emily seems like she would be perfect for her. And that was back with the Leviathan shit anyway, and that's over, so Charlie should be fine with Dean giving her number to a hot chick. Anyway, he likes Emily and wants her to be happy. And he liked Charlie, so if they're happy together, that's a double bonus.

"Thanks, Dean. You're a pretty cool guy. You know, for someone who can't even get it up for a great lay."

"Hey!" Dean protests heatedly. Emily laughs.

"Just kidding. You're a great guy, Dean. I hope you and Cas are happy together."

"We're not in love. We're just friends," Dean replies automatically. Emily smiles like she knows something that Dean doesn't. "But thanks anyway. Thanks for everything, Emily."

"You too, Dean. Here." Emily writes a phone number on the bottom half of the paper with Charlie's number. She tears the paper and hands the number to Dean. "Keep in touch."

"Will do," Dean replies, even though he probably won't. Emily looks at him expectantly. "Oh, do you want mine?"

"Um, yeah, you doofus!" Emily replies teasingly. Dean writes his number under Charlie's. He puts down the one with the normal answering machine message, just to be safe. He doesn't want Emily dragged in his life if at all possible. She's a nice girl and he doesn't want her to end up dead, like ninety-nine percent of the people he knows in the hunting lifestyle.

After leaving Emily's house, Dean pops into the grocery store to do the shopping he was supposed to do in the first place, then he drives back. He enters the cabin and is almost instantly slammed against the wall by an incredibly pissed off Castiel.

"Where the _hell_ were you?" the angel growls. Dean's almost never heard Castiel swear before. It sounds very threatening in his deep, gravelly voice.

"Shopping," Dean replies, holding up the bags. He tries to push Castiel off him. The angel doesn't let him get away.

"You were gone for _hours_, Dean. Do you have any idea how scared Sam was? How scared I was? We thought you had gotten attacked by demons or angels or some other monster. If you're going to be gone that long, call us."

"Where is Sam anyway?" Dean asks. Castiel's still glaring at Dean like he's evil incarnate.

"Sleeping. He would not stop worrying and was driving himself into hysteria, so I put him to sleep." Dean feels immensely guilty instantly. "If you had just called us-"

"What, like you called us when you were gone?" Dean shoots back. "Right after you told me you might kill yourself? Way to have a double standard, Cas."

"I was watching over _your_ friend and being beaten in Heaven," Castiel replies with acid in his voice. "What were you doing?'

"Getting laid," Dean replies irritably. It's a lie, but some vindictive part of him wants to say it. Castiel looks shocked and maybe a little hurt. "You know what that means now, right?"

"Well, we wouldn't want to interrupt such important things," Castiel snaps back. He lets go of Dean's coat as if the fabric is dirtying his hands and stalks over to the couch, where he grabs some book and buries his face in it. Dean knows he's hurt, but he can't bring himself to apologize. The bag from Wal-Mart is still in the car, but Dean's got the groceries and he starts to put them away.

Sam storms out of his bedroom a moment later. "What the hell, Cas?" he demands.

"Your brother is back," Castiel says sharply. He stands abruptly and goes in the small office-like room he's claimed as his own, considering Dean stole the bedroom he was originally in. The door slams shut and the whole house seems to shake with the action.

"Where were you? And what did you do to piss Cas off this much?" Sam demands. Dean groans.

"I got food and chatted with a nice girl. I got back here, bitched at Cas for no reason, and told him I left to have sex. And I made fun of him. I know, I'm the biggest douchebag in the entire freaking world."

"No objections here," Sam replies. Dean glares at his brother as he shoves the whiskey he got to spike the eggnog with in the cabinet. "I'm sure if you just apologize to him-"

"Look, Sam, I had a crazy time when I was out, and right now I just want to sleep. I'll talk to Cas later, I guess." Sam does nothing to stop Dean as he walks into his bedroom and lies down on the bed. And though he'd never admit it, Dean's very, very aware of the fact that Castiel is on the other side of one of the flimsy walls.

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**Yeah, Dean's being a dick, but he's _Dean_. I don't think that's too out of character. I hope you liked the chapter! Review please! Pretty please?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, this is not exactly going by the timeline I thought it would be. I had thought that by this chapter, it would be Christmas already, but with the way chapters have been coming, it won't be Christmas morning until chapter nine! I hope I'm not dragging this out too much! And I hope you guys still like it, even if I am!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Though I might have some of the actors stashed in my closet.**

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'_Twas the day before Christmas and all through the hunting cabin_

_Castiel was really pissed at Dean and refusing to talk to him._

Okay, so maybe that's not traditionally how the poem goes, but that's what's going on now. Dean still hasn't apologized for what he did the day before. Not that he would be able to, even if he grew the balls to own up to it; Castiel refuses to talk to him or even look at him. Dean knows it's his own fault, but outwardly, he hides that by acting mad at Castiel. Which, in turn, really only pisses Castiel off more, because Dean has no reason to be mad at Castiel and both of them know it. Dean wonders how long it'll be before Sam locks the two of them in a room and forces them to apologize. It'll probably be soon; ever since they decided to have a nice Christmas, Sam's been really into it and very excited. He won't stand for anything ruining the day, especially not Dean and Castiel's petty argument.

Castiel very pointedly avoids Dean and stands in a spot where he doesn't have to even risk looking at him. Dean in turn acts as if he doesn't see Castiel and ignores him. The tension between them is ridiculously obvious. Dean knows the moment Sam decides he can't take it any more.

"Alright, you two," he snaps. "Tomorrow is Christmas and you're not ruining it with this stupid argument. Cas, Dean is sorry and he knows he's a jerk. Dean, get your head out of your ass and stop pretending to be mad at Cas when there's no reason for you to be." Both Dean and Castiel stare at Sam in shock. "I'm going out for a walk. I'll be back in half an hour. If you two haven't kissed and made up by that point, I'm going to lock you two in the bedroom until Christmas morning."

With that, Sam marches out of the house. Dean shoots a sideways look at Castiel, who seems shocked. "He's right," Dean says softly. Castiel's head jerks so quickly it must give the angel whiplash. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I haven't just said it already."

"I overreacted," Castiel replies in an equally quiet voice. "It is no concern of mine if you wish to 'get laid,' as you put it."

"I didn't, though," Dean contradicts. "I don't know why I told you I did, but I didn't. I met a cute, nice girl, went back to her house, and we ended up talking instead of sleeping together or anything."

Castiel looks confused and tilts his head to the side. Dean finds the gesture incredibly endearing. But no matter what Emily might have said and thought the day before, Dean's _not_ in love with Castiel. "But I thought you said that sex was the most important part of a relationship," he replies, sounding lost. Dean shrugs.

"This wasn't a relationship, first off. I just met her. And second…well, I guess sex isn't always the most important thing."

"So the fact that I have never made love to anyone is not a problem?" Castiel replies. Dean grins and pats the couch next to him. Castiel shyly goes over and sits down next to him.

"It's not a problem, Cas. It's actually kinda sweet." Damn, that sounds girly as all hell. "Oh, and speaking of that, you do realize that I'm not making fun of your wife or anything when I say stuff about you two, right?"

"I know," Castiel replies. "Do you think I should contact her and tell her I am alive and well?"

"Have you talked to her since you left her?" Dean asks. Castiel nods.

"Once. After I tried to heal Sam and could not, but before I transferred his insanity into my own mind. I told her that I would not be coming home. She asked why and I told her I remembered everything and I could no longer be with her. I think I might have scared her, but then I hung up and have not spoken to her since."

"Well, do you want to go back to her?" Dean asks. Castiel shakes his head.

"No. She would be better off without me."

"Then don't call," Dean replies. "She probably thinks you're dead, and while that probably sucks for her, it's better than knowing the truth. And it's better than her thinking that you left her or something."

Castiel nods. "I suppose you are right," he replies. "Is that why you wished me to wipe Lisa and Ben's minds of all memories of you?"

"Yeah," Dean replies, swallowing hard. "I wasn't healthy for either of them. It would have been better for them not to even know I existed. And I'm not ashamed of it either."

"I think that took far more strength than what I did," Castiel replies. Dean smiles softly.

"Well, if you're not going back to your wife and you can't go back to Heaven, will you be sticking with Sam and I?" he asks. Castiel smiles shyly.

"I believe I would like that," he replies, his eyes locked with Dean's. And with a shock, Dean realizes it. He was wrong and Emily was right.

He's in love with Castiel.

"Hey, Cas, I got pretty much no sleep last night. Do you mind if I go and try and catch an hour or two?"

"Not at all," Castiel replies. "As long as we are good?"

"Yeah, we're good," Dean replies, smiling. He hopes the smile hides his growing panic. Holy _shit_, he's actually in love. With Castiel, of all people. Angels. Beings. Whatever. It doesn't matter. What matters is that _Dean freaking Winchester _is in_ love _with_ Castiel_. Castiel, the _angel of the Lord_.

Dean goes into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. He doesn't sleep - how the hell could he sleep? - but he does go on the bed. Damn, is this a panic attack? Dean thinks it might be. He can't seem to catch his breath and his heart is pounding a mile a minute. But Winchesters don't have panic attacks, so Dean forces himself to calm down. After a few minutes of breathing exercises - freaking _breathing exercises_; Dean is such a girl - he manages to calm down. Mostly. There's still some panic because he's _freaking in love with Castiel_, but other than that, Dean's pretty much okay.

He thinks.

* * *

Castiel is sitting on the couch when Sam reenters the cabin. "Hey, Cas. Where's Dean?" the younger Winchester asks. "I swear, if that asshole screwed everything up again…"

"Dean is sleeping," Castiel replies, keeping his voice soft so as not to wake his charge in the other room. "We spoke and are no longer at odds with each other. Though we did not kiss, as you requested."

Sam chuckles. Castiel doesn't understand what's so amusing, but he doesn't ask. "You didn't actually have to kiss, Cas. It's okay. So Dean's sleeping?"

"He said he did not sleep much last night," Castiel replies. Sam shrugs.

"Well, while he's in there, do you want to help me with something?"

"What?" Castiel asks, curious in spite of himself. Sam grins.

"I got some stuff to decorate with last time I went out. I thought we could do it as a surprise for Dean." Sam grabs a bag out from the broken oven and places it on the table. In it are various garlands and such, plus a few little plants that Castiel recognizes but did not know were used at Christmas.

"Is that not mistletoe?" he asks, pointing at the little sprigs. Sam grins wider.

"Yeah, it is."

"Why do you have that for Christmas decorations?" Sam's grin gets impossibly wider and Castiel has the feeling he's missing something that would be blatantly obvious to a normal human here.

"You'll find out tomorrow," Sam replies. "Just make sure that, at some point tomorrow, you walk under this while with Dean. And when you're under it, stop."

"Why?" Castiel's very confused.

"I'll tell you when it happens. I promise it's nothing bad." Castiel's not sure that he wants to do what Sam tells him to, but he also wants to trust that Sam is telling him the truth.

"Very well. I will do as you ask," he replies after a moment of consideration. Sam beams.

"Great! Okay, can you help me with putting stuff up?"

"Alright." Castiel's still a little doubtful, but he dutifully carries the bag of decorations around as Sam puts garlands over the windows and doorways. He helps Sam hang the candy canes - _"Why are they shaped like canes, Sam? Is that not an uncomfortable shape to suck on, with it being as long and curved as it is? …Sam, are you alright?" "It's…it's just for fun, Cas. You don't put it all in your mouth at one time. And please don't ever say that again." "Say what? That this is an uncomfortable shape to suck-" "Yes! Stop! Now!"_ - on the tree. And he holds the chair in place when Sam finally puts the mistletoe up, right in the doorway that separates the main room from the kitchen.

"Remember, go under this with Dean," Sam says. His face is still faintly red from the candy cane comment Castiel made and the angel is a bit worried; he seemed to choke or something of the sort when Castiel mentioned the obvious design flaw in the candy. If Castiel were to hurt Dean's little brother, Dean would never forgive him.

"Sam, I feel slightly uncomfortable going through with this plan without knowing what will come of it," Castiel replies. Sam sighs.

"It's nothing, Cas. It's just a prank to play on Dean. Quit worrying." The fact that Sam refuses to tell Castiel what will happen only worries the angel more, but he doesn't mention it again. Obviously, Sam will not tell him. He doesn't want to tell Dean, as that would ruin the surprise, but perhaps Castiel can find something in one of the books that would explain it. Maybe standing beneath the mistletoe with a friend creates some sort of protection, and that's why Sam's so desperate for Castiel and Dean to do so. Castiel's never heard of mistletoe having mystical powers that he can remember, but he's also a fairly young and unimportant angel, in the grand scheme of things, so he is far from omnipotent. There are many things, especially human things, that he doesn't know. This mistletoe thing must be one of them.

Dean's still sleeping when Castiel and Sam finish decorating, but Castiel is willing to leave him be. He convinces Sam to do the same without much prodding. Both of them know that Dean has been stressed and overworked the past few weeks (for most of his life, actually, but they can't do anything about things that are that far back in the past) and they both want to let him rest. Sam picks up his computer and starts to "surf the web," as he calls it - Castiel doesn't understand what the "web" is or how Sam is "surfing" it, but he doesn't ask - and Castiel picks up the book he's been reading. It was one of Bobby's, about spells and witchcraft. Although Castiel would obviously never use anything dark, there are some protection rituals that might someday come in handy, so he's been trying to find those in the book. He's also caught a few historical inaccuracies which he's corrected in the margin with a pencil. This is one of the few times he's actually written with his vessel and he uses a clear, neat cursive. It's different than Sam's mix of print and cursive and Dean's half-illegible scrawl, but Castiel finds it much more readable than either of their handwritings. He hopes they agree. It wouldn't be very helpful for them if he wrote them notes that they couldn't even read.

Castiel continues to take notes in the margin whenever there's an inaccuracy (which is often) and is completely entangled in the book when Sam starts talking.

"So what are you going to do after the wards break?" he asks. It takes Castiel a moment to realize he's talking to him.

"I do not know. Dean said that my father was going to return to Heaven and He could potentially get the other angels to end their pursuit of me. Until He does so, if He does design to do so on my behalf, I will continue trying to hide from the rest of my brethren. And after that…well, I will most likely wander. I would like to see more of the world. I explored a lot when I was searching for God, but I never had the time to really take an area in."

"So you won't stay with us?" Sam asks. Castiel shrugs.

"I don't know. Perhaps I shall, if you and Dean wish for me to. But I doubt that will be the case."

"Why?" Castiel doesn't want to answer and Sam seems to explain that, as he doesn't push.

"I'd like for you to stay," he offers. Castiel smiles sadly.

"You're not the one I'm worried about," he replies. Sam frowns.

"Dean likes you even more than I do," he says in confusion. Castiel laughs bitterly.

"I do not know what you are getting that impression from, but it is untrue."

"Is not," Sam replies. Castiel sighs.

"It is the day before our Savior's birth, Sam. I do not wish to argue."

Sam sighs and leaves Castiel in peace for a few moments. Then…

"Did you ever meet Jesus?" Castiel does a double take and stares at Sam with wide eyes. "I'm taking that as a no."

"The Holy Child was the son of God born on Earth. Only the most important of angels could meet Him. Gabriel proclaimed His birth and told the Virgin Mary of her upcoming pregnancy. Very few other angels ever saw Him."

"So Gabe actually did that?" Sam asks. Castiel smiles fondly as he nods.

'It was not as calm as it is depicted in the Bible. He went to Earth and told Mary that our father 'knocked her up.' Obviously, such slang was not used in that time, so it took quite a bit of explaining for her to understand. Joseph entered at the tail end of the conversation and though that Gabriel was saying he had impregnated Mary, which led to him attempting to beat his head in with a hammer." Sam's laughing hysterically by this point and Castiel is smiling softly. "Gabriel was brought back to Heaven and Raphael was sent to explain instead. That was not written in the Gospels."

"It should have been," Sam replies, still laughing. "It would have made reading the Bible far more amusing."

"I do not believe your amusement was the primary concern of the prophets when they wrote the Gospels," Castiel replies in a deadpan voice. Sam looks a little confused. "I meant that as a joke," Castiel adds, worried. "Did I not do it right?"

"No, Cas, it was fine," Sam replies. Castiel isn't really reassured, but he lets it drop. Sam also drops the topic. But Castiel can't focus on the book now; he's lost in thoughts and memories.

"Hey Cas?"

"What, Sam?" Castiel asks, his voice a little more exasperated than he meant for it to be. Sam looks stung.

"I'm not bugging you, am I?"

"No, Sam," Castiel replies with a sigh. "What is your question?"

"I was just wondering what angels do for Christmas," he replies shyly. "I mean, it's celebrating the Savior's birth, so don't you guys do something?"

"To celebrate the birth of Christ, angels have rituals and blessing we perform on each other. It is the only time when the hierarchy of Heaven is at least mostly ignored. The only time I ever saw Michael in Heaven was during the blessings and other celebrations."

"What about Raphael and Gabriel?"

"Raphael was much more involved in the training of angels to become soldiers," Castiel replies. He can remember some of the "training" that Raphael would put the angels through. Back then, he had thought of it as Heaven's will and thus perfectly just, but now that he looks back on it, he realizes it was nothing short of torture. "And Gabriel was always willing to spend time with younger angels. He was always pulling pranks on Zachariah, which meant he spent a good amount of time with my garrison. And he liked to spend time with Balthazar, since he was a prankster himself, which led to me spending far more time with him than many other angels of my rank, as Balthazar and I were inseparable when we were young." Castiel doesn't really like thinking about that, because then the only thing that can come to his mind is when he killed Balthazar and his friend's last word was his name.

"That sounds like it was fun," Sam says softly.

"It was. And celebrating Christ in Heaven was always a good time as well. At that time, Heaven was truly Paradise."

And after that, what more can you really say?

Sam goes back to his computer and Castiel returns to his book. But he's easily distracted, first by the tapping of Sam's fingers on the keyboard, then by the sounds of the wind outside, and then by Dean's breathing in the bedroom.

Only Dean's breaths are far more ragged than they would be for a normal, peaceful sleep. Castiel frowns. He decides he'll wait and see if Dean seems to calm down. Half a minute later, Dean's breathing has only gotten quicker. Castiel knows he's probably jumping the gun - it hasn't even been a minute yet - but he gets up and goes over to the door. Sam watches him in confusion. Castiel opens the door and sees an awake-but-not-necessarily-coherent Dean sitting on the bed, seeming to be having a panic attack of some sort.

"Sam!" Castiel calls, feeling his chest tighten uncomfortably. He's worried about Dean and hopes he won't panic himself, as that wouldn't be very helpful. Instantly, the younger Winchester is by his side. "Dean is panicking. What do we do?"

"Can you put him to sleep?" Sam asks. Castiel wants to smack himself for not thinking on his own. He goes over to Dean and places two fingers on his forehead. Instantly, Dean's eyes close and Castiel catches him as he begins to slump to the side. He feels like an idiot for not thinking of that before Sam mentioned it. He was panicking because he saw Dean panicking, which was really a flaw in his reasoning. It was not a helpful reaction in the least.

"You really care about him a lot," Sam remarks. Castiel looks at him as he gently lays Dean down on the bed. He fixes a few errant strands of Dean's hair tenderly.

"Yes, I do," he replies. Dean's sleeping so deeply he doesn't have to speak quietly, but he does it anyway. Sam smiles.

"He cares about you too."

"Does he?" Castiel asks, looking down. "He has never articulated such feelings, nor does he act in a particularly kind way towards me."

"He doesn't talk about his feelings with anyone and he's not nice to anyone. That means nothing. He likes you, Cas."

"Do you think so?" Castiel hates how pitifully excited he is about this. It's not very angelic or at all like a supposedly all-powerful creature of the Lord. Not that Castiel's all-powerful or anything, but he must give off that impression, as people tend to think he is. He's reluctant to stop giving off the impression as well; he wouldn't doubt it if the only reason Dean kept him around was because of his powers.

"Dean cares," Sam reiterates. "He's just not good at saying it. But trust me, he cares about you a lot."

"If you say so," Castiel replies, looking down. Sam grins and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be introducing you as my brother-in-law soon," he says teasingly. Castiel is still trying to splutter an answer as Sam leaves Dean's bedroom. But Castiel stays; he'll wait until Dean wakes up.

He doesn't want to leave him alone. Not on Christmas Eve.

* * *

**YAY! Dean's realized he's in love with Cas, Cas is definitely in love with Dean, and Sam is trying to get them to kiss already! I always thought that Sam was a diehard Destiel shipper (though he also does tend to ruin sweet Destiel moments all the freaking time). And I'm sure all of you know what his mistletoe plot is. If you don't...come on, people! Cas has the excuse of being an innocent little angel, but you guys? You don't live under rocks, do you?**

**Wait, I probably shouldn't insult you guys right before I ask for reviews. Oops. Review anyway?**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, on January 1st, I still have yet to get to Christmas in this fic. Oops. But next chapter will officially be the first Christmas chapter. And after that, this fic will start wrapping up! I can't believe we're over halfway through! I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you'll continue to do so until the end!**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is totally mine. Totally. Completely. (You know, in my dreams.)**

* * *

When Dean wakes up, he's very confused.

See, he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is panicking wildly because he's in love with Castiel and he still can't quite wrap his head around that fact. And he remembers that there was no way in hell he could fall asleep. And yet now, here he is, groggily trying to wake up enough to open his eyes. He's a little worried, though he thinks he's in the same bed he was in before.

Then he realizes that his breathing isn't the only sound in the room. Dean's not alone.

Logic tells him that it's probably Sam. Instinct ignores that and causes his eyes to jerk open at once and his hand to fly to the gun under his pillow. Once Dean's brain catches up with his body, he realizes that it's not Sam he's pointing the gun at.

It's Castiel.

"Dean, it's just me," Castiel says softly. His hands are raised in a gesture of surrender. Dean wonders why; a gunshot wound won't do anything to him. Then again, the gun is pointed at Castiel's head. Even though Castiel is an angel, a shot through the brain might do some damage.

"Sorry," Dean says, putting the gun down. Castiel slowly lowers his hands. "I just didn't remember going to sleep, so I was a little freaked when I woke up."

"You didn't fall asleep," Castiel replies. Dean frowns. "Well, you didn't do it yourself. I entered the room to find you panicking, so I called Sam and he suggested I put you to sleep. That was a few hours ago."

"Have you been watching me the whole time?" Dean asks. Castiel looks down.

"I didn't want you to be alone," he replies shyly. Dean has to fight a giant, idiotic smile from spreading across his face. Maybe he's accepted that he's in love with Castiel, as weird as it is, but he really doesn't want anyone else knowing.

"Thanks, Cas." Castiel looks up at him in surprise. "So what time is it now?"

"Five thirty-one," Castiel replies. Dean looks at him in shock.

"Dude. How the hell do you know that?"

"I am an angel, Dean," Castiel says patiently. "It is not even remotely difficult to know what time it is at any given moment."

"That's freaking awesome," Dean replies. Castiel smiles slightly.

"Thank you."

After a pause, Dean stands up and stretches. "Where's Sam?" he asks.

"I'm out here," Sam calls from the other side of the door. "Get your lazy ass out of bed!"

"I'm coming, Sammy!" Dean calls back. "Quit bitching at me!" He opens the door to step out and stops abruptly in the doorway. The cabin looks about ten times as Christmas-y as it did when Dean went into his bedroom. Sam is standing proudly in the middle of it.

"Do you like it?" he asks worriedly after Dean doesn't say anything. "Cas and I decorated when I got back."

"This is _awesome_," Dean says emphatically. "But you better have an extra candy cane for me." Sam sighs and tosses Dean the lone candy cane sitting on the table. Dean moves out of the way of the doorway, realizing he's trapping Castiel in the bedroom behind him, and unwraps the candy. He lets out a soft moan as he starts sucking on it. Candy canes were always his favorite part of Christmas. Sam's face goes bright red and he turns away while Castiel stares at Dean intently, head tipped to the side. The staring is nothing new and Sam acting weird isn't weird (if that makes any sense), so Dean ignores it and continues sucking on the candy cane.

"I believe I understand, Sam," Castiel declares a few minutes later. "The design of candy canes no longer puzzles me." Sam makes a choking noise.

"Okay, Cas," he says splutters. "Great." Dean looks from his brother to the angel in confusion before deciding he probably _really_ doesn't want to know and ignoring them.

"What exactly is the traditional way of celebrating Christmas for most humans?" Castiel asks. Dean looks over at Sam, who mouths back _your angel_. Dean sighs.

"Well, there's the tree like we have. And there's presents. And then people visit with their families and have big dinners with all of their relatives. And then, of course, there's Santa Claus."

"Santa Claus?" Castiel asks, sounding puzzled. Dean grins wickedly.

"Santa Claus isn't real," Sam cuts in. Dean's grin fades and he glares at his brother. He had been hoping to convince Castiel that Santa was real and get the angel to do something stupid like wait up for him all night. But Sam had to go and ruin it. "He's a story that people tell their kids. He's a man in a red suit that leaves gifts for children every Christmas by sliding down their chimney. He also leaves stuff in their stockings." Castiel looks even more confused, if possible.

"Parents tell their children that a man dressed in red breaks into their house through their chimney to leave presents in their socks?" he asks, voice heavy with disbelief. Dean snickers. Sam shoots him a look. _You started it,_ Dean mouths back. Sam sighs and turns back to Castiel.

"No, Cas, Santa's supposed to be like an elf or something. And he leaves presents for children and puts presents in these big stockings that are bought specifically for the purpose of being filled by Santa on Christmas." Castiel nods slowly.

"How does Santa get to children's houses? Where is his base of operations?" he asks. Dean almost chokes on his candy cane as he starts laughing.

"Look, Cas, Santa's not real," Sam says irritably. Castiel looks confused.

"I know, Sam. I am not a child. I was merely wondering how the children's stories go."

"He lives on the North Pole," Dean puts in. "With a bunch of elves that he uses as slave labor. And he gets to kids houses in a sleigh pulled by eight reindeer. Well, nine if you count Rudolph."

"Rudolph?" Castiel looks hopelessly lost.

"Yeah, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," Dean replies, grinning widely. Castiel's eyes go wide.

"And children believe this?"

"Kids believe in magic, Cas," Dean replies. Castiel looks no less shocked.

"Magic I can understand. But this is not magic. This is insanity!"

"Cas-"

"And do you realize that if you switch a few of the letters in this Santa's name, it spells Satan? How is this creature now the focus of the birth of Christ?"

"Cas, jeez. Calm down. It's fine."

"Why has your kind ruined Christmas?" Castiel demands. Dean rolls his eyes.

"It isn't ruined, Cas. It's just different. People still care about Jesus, but there's other aspects of Christianity too." Castiel still looks skeptical and Dean shoots Sam a look that clearly says _Help me._

"Santa is kind of the spirit of Christmas and giving. You know how the three wise men and the shepherds and everyone gave presents to the baby Jesus?" Sam asks. Castiel nods, still looking doubtful. "So people give presents to their kids to kinda show that everyone has God in them." Castiel looks thoughtful. "And Santa is the spirit of giving. It's not about pushing away Christ, it's about embracing him."

"If it is truly as you say, then you are correct," Castiel says softly. "I…I apologize. I judged too quickly."

"It's okay, Cas. I guess it does sound bad when you first hear it." Dean doesn't add the fact that Castiel's assessment is perfectly true for quite a few people. "But humankind isn't all that terrible."

"You're right," Castiel replies softly. "You're not." Something about the way Castiel says that makes Dean uncomfortable; Castiel almost sounds like he's talking specifically about Dean rather than about the human race in general.

"But you don't celebrate like that, I assume," Castiel adds after an awkward silence. Sam nods.

"Nah. Dad never bothered with Santa. And neither did we, really."

"Except that one time you thought we were fighting Santa's evil brother," Dean adds teasingly.

"You thought it was him too!" Sam protests. Castiel looks confused.

"This Santa has an evil brother?" he asks. It's clear he's losing faith in humanity again and Dean is quick to correct him.

"No. It was a pair of pagan gods. That freaking bitch and her goddamn husband."

"Fudging, Dean," Sam corrects with a wide, sarcastic smile. Dean flips him off.

"I do not understand that reference," Castiel puts in. Dean sighs.

"It's what the pagan goddess or whatever she was told me. If I wanted to swear, I should say 'fudging' instead." The derision in Dean's voice is clear. Castiel still looks slightly confused. "Never mind."

"So how do you celebrate?" Castiel asks. "You explained before, but it was not very in-depth. I wish to know how I am supposed to act. I do not wish to make a fool out of myself."

Dean looks over at Sam. "Well, last time we really celebrated was…"

"Right before you went to Hell," Sam supplies. Dean nods.

"Yeah. So that was what, five years ago?"

"Yes," Sam replies in an exasperated voice. "You can't even remember how long it's been since you went to Hell?" Dean doesn't mention the fact that, for him, it's been more like forty-five years with the forty years in Hell.

"Go screw yourself, Sam," he snaps. Sam rolls his eyes.

"Great Christmas spirit, Dean."

"Anyway, Cas," Dean adds, ignoring Sam's comment, "we had a pretty laid back Christmas. And then when we were with Dad… God, when did we last celebrate with him?"

"No idea," Sam replies. Dean raises an eyebrow. Sam has a fantastic memory. "It was after I gave you the amulet, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Dean replies automatically. But he can't actually remember any Christmases between that one and the one five years ago all the vividly. "We're not all proper or anything. You won't make a fool of yourself."

"And what sorts of gifts are given?" Castiel asks, head tilted slightly to the side. "I wish to know if mine are appropriate."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Sam puts in. Castiel looks slightly shy.

"I merely do not wish to give you something you will not want."

"Cas, it'll be fine," Dean replies. "Now, who else is hungry?"

"I can run out and get burgers," Sam offers. Dean's entire day has just brightened up. "That looks like a yes." And apparently, his face has too. "Cas, you want anything?"

"I do not require food," Castiel replies, looking slightly puzzled. Sam nods after a moment.

"I guess that's a no. Cheeseburger, right Dean?"

"Yup. And don't forget the pie," Dean calls after Sam. Sam sighs.

"When have I ever forgotten the pie?"

"When you got me cake," Dean replies in a disgusted voice. "That is _not_ close enough."

"Fine," Sam replies. "I'll get some pie for both of us."

"Get a slice for Cas too," Dean adds. Castiel looks confused.

"I do not require food, Dean," he repeats.

"You don't eat pie because you require it, Cas," Dean explains. "You eat pie because it's delicious." Castiel still looks a little lost, but Dean ignores him. "Get him a slice, Sammy. If he doesn't want it, I'll eat it."

"What a sacrifice," Sam replies sarcastically before leaving the cabin. Dean's glad he took his gifts out of the car already; they're under the mattress of his bed. Not wrapped, but there's only so much he can do. Instead, he just put both of them in plastic bags and wrapped the bags around them so the titles of the books weren't visible. Of course, Castiel's probably be able to use angel powers to sense a Bible whenever it's near or something, but Dean wants to at least try for some of the element of surprise.

"Dean, why are you getting me pie?" Castiel asks. "I am not hungry. My vessel does not require food when I am within it."

"Yeah, but pie is awesome, so you're eating it," Dean replies as if it's as simple as that. Castiel still looks confused, but he sighs and seems resigned to the fact that he's going to be forced to try the pie. Dean grins widely.

"You'll love the pie. Trust me, Cas."

"I do trust you, Dean," Castiel replies. And Dean can't help but think that that sounds a little more than platonic, maybe, and-

No, he's being an idiot. Just because Dean is in love with Castiel doesn't mean the angel is in love with him as well. And if Dean thinks that, he'll just get hurt when something happens that shows, without a doubt, that it's not true. And the last thing Dean wants is for him to get his heart broken. Because that's way to girly for a Winchester.

Sam gets back a few minutes later. Castiel goes back to his book and starts reading and making notes, as he's been doing every spare moment for a few days now. Dean eats his burger as Sam eats his rabbit food (aka a salad). When it's time for the pie, Dean literally drags Castiel over to the table by his tie. He's shocked the thin fabric doesn't break, but guesses it must be some sort of angel magic or something.

"Eat it," Dean demands, pointing at the pie. Castiel sighs.

"Dean, I have no need-"

"Eat it or I'll make you," Dean interrupts in a deadly serious voice. Castiel sighs again.

"Dean-"

Dean takes the opportunity to shove a forkful of pie into Castiel's mouth. Castiel makes a muffled sound of outrage before chewing and swallowing the pie. Dean waits for the dramatic change in expression, when Castiel sees the light and knows how awesome pie is and how much of an idiot he was for not wanting it.

It doesn't come.

"Well?" Dean demands. Castiel sighs for a third time.

"If you had let me finish, you would know that, as an angel, I have very limited use of this vessel's taste buds. Even if pie is as 'awesome' as you say, I would not have been able to truly enjoy it," he replies, air quotes and all.

"That's terrible, Cas!" Dean whispers in mock (well, at least _partially_ mock) horror. Castiel rolls his eyes.

"What is the human saying? 'Simply a greater quantity for myself'?"

"That means all the more for me," Sam corrects with a grin as he eats his own slice of pie. Dean nods in understanding after Sam de-angels it; he hadn't had a clue what Castiel had meant.

"Yes, that," Castiel replies. "You may eat this, Dean. I do not wish for it."

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. But he does eat Castiel's slice of pie as well. If an angel offers you something, he supposes it's probably good to accept. Sam rolls his eyes dramatically as Dean does so, but Castiel is back with his book, so he doesn't notice.

"What should we do now?" Dean asks. Sam shrugs.

"I was thinking I would look and see if I could find a hunt. For after Christmas. The wards are breaking on the 26th, right?"

"Yeah," Dean replies. Sam nods.

"So I'll try and find something relatively close that we can go off to after the wards break."

"Okay. Hey, Cas, you wanna come with?" Dean calls. Castiel looks up from the book. He seems surprised. Dean wonders why; he did tell Castiel that he should stick with them after the wards break, didn't he?

"Do you wish me to?" Castiel asks. Dean grins.

"Yeah, of course!" he replies. Castiel looks a little shy, but he smiles back.

"If you want me to go with you, then I suppose I should," he replies. "Maybe I can see if I can discover a way to make this body experience taste properly again so I can see why you like pie so much."

"Sounds like a good idea," Dean replies. He grabs his coat.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks. Dean shrugs.

"Since I have the time, I was thinking I would go out to the car and get some of the guns and stuff I've been meaning to clean forever out of the trunk. I really don't want to be a third wheel on your date with research." Sam glares at Dean.

"You think you're just hilarious, don't you?" he asks. Dean grins widely and leaves the house. The moment he's out, he almost jumps into the air for joy. Castiel is staying! He's staying with Dean and Dean doesn't have to let him go again, which is a relief in and of itself. Because Dean really doesn't want to have to say goodbye to Castiel. He's said goodbye to the angel far too many times now, and far too many of them have been too close to permanent for Dean's liking.

It takes longer to go out to the car and get the guns than it normally would, considering Dean keeps stopping to revel in the fact that _Castiel is staying_, but it still isn't too long after Dean leaves the cabin that he reenters it with half a dozen guns and other types of weapons. He spreads them all across the table and starts cleaning.

Sam goes to bed at around eleven, but as Dean did end up taking a nap in the middle of the day, he's still not tired. At one minute to midnight, he pulls out two paper cups - it's the closest they have to shot glasses - and pours a bit of the whiskey from his flask in each of them. "Come over here, Cas," he calls. Castiel looks up from the book he's been pouring over and goes over to Dean.

"What?" he asks. Dean hands him one of the cups. Castiel sighs.

"Dean, I thought we went over this earlier-"

"It's for a celebration, Cas," Dean interrupts. Castiel frowns.

"Celebration of what?" Dean keeps an eye on his phone. The second the time switches to midnight, he grins and taps his cup against Castiel's in a sad pantomime of a toast.

"It is now officially Christmas," he says, downing the whiskey in one gulp. Castiel looks dubious but mimics the gesture. Dean grins and holds out the flask as Castiel finishes his drink. "Want some more?"

"No thank you, Dean," Castiel replies.

Dean shrugs. "Suit yourself," he replies, taking a long sip out of the flask itself. "So, it's officially Christmas. What do you want to do?"

"I want to sleep, but you two won't shut up and let me," Sam calls from his room. Dean laughs.

"Put the pillow over your ears, Sammy," he calls back.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" Sam asks irritably, stumbling into the doorway of his bedroom. His long hair is messed up and something about it makes him look very young again. Dean smiles fondly. Sam looking like that reminds him of a better time, and considering it's now officially Christmas, the memories are less bittersweet than normal for some reason.

"I guess I will," Dean replies. "Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean, Sam," Castiel replies. He picks the book back up and continues to read. Dean notices in surprise that Castiel's not much farther in than he was earlier that evening. He wonders why as he goes into his bedroom and lies down on the bed. And maybe it's some sort of angel mojo Castiel's using or maybe he's just tired, but Dean's asleep basically from the second he hits the mattress.

* * *

**Okay, so we _technically_got to Christmas at the end of this chapter, but it doesn't really count. Next chapter is Christmas morning! Yay! Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**So I realized that I'm an idiot. The plan was to have this story be published on the twelve days of Christmas and have it finish on Epiphany, but I posted the first chapter on Christmas day. So either I'll just keep the twelve chapter pattern and finish this on January 5th or I'll write an epilogue or something for the sixth. Yeah, I'm stupid. I know. :(**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Considering the stupid mistake I just made, I'd probably air it on the wrong day or something, so you should be glad I don't.**

* * *

On Christmas morning, Dean is awoken by a surprised and cheerful shout from outside his bedroom. At seven o'clock in the morning.

"Damn it, Sammy," he swears as he stumbles out of bed and over to the door. "It's Christmas! Can't you let me sleep in?"

"Dean, look outside!" Sam says gleefully. Dean sighs and looks out the window. Then he does a double take, because is it really…

"It's snowing!" Sam cheers, sounding for all the world like a five year old. A five year old that's six foot four, but a five year old all the same. "It almost never snows in North Carolina! Like, only once every few years! But it's snowing now! We have a white Christmas, Dean!"

Dean watches Sam fondly as he grabs his coat and runs outside. There's not even a full inch of snow on the ground and it doesn't seem like it's going to stay that long, but it's still snowing and that seems to be enough for Sam. Dean turns to Castiel, who's standing by the window with a soft smile.

"Did you do this?" Dean asks. Castiel's smile gets a little bigger.

"I'm flattered that you think I could cause a snowfall, but no. I might have helped it along a little, though." Dean frowns in confusion and Castiel elaborates. "Had nature continued going the way it was, this snowfall would have hit tomorrow night. I pushed it along a little and sped it up so it would hit today. I'm sure meteorologists are stunned." Dean grins and gives Castiel a quick hug. He's not sure why, but hell. It's Christmas. You're supposed to hug people and shit.

"Thanks, Cas." Castiel looks surprised at the gesture of affection. Dean wonders why; he doesn't give hugs often, no, but they're not that rare, are they? Then again, now that he thinks about it, Dean has only given Cas a hug once before, so maybe it is that rare.

Sam reenters the cabin a few minutes later, shaking snow out of his hair. He looks like a big kid, which makes Dean's heart ache. But he pushes those feelings away; it's Christmas. He should be happy about the fact that it's snowing and Sam is happy, not thinking about how they never had a chance to be this carefree when they were younger.

"This is so cool!" Sam cries, looking like a puppy. Or maybe a moose, considering his height. Perhaps Crowley's nickname was right. "I thought it wasn't supposed to snow until tomorrow!"

"You've got Cas to thank for that," Dean says, nudging Castiel forward. Sam looks at Castiel in shock.

"You did this?" he asks. Castiel looks a little embarrassed.

"I sped up the storm so it would reach us this morning," he says shyly. Without warning, Sam grabs Castiel and hugs him so tightly he ends up picking him up. As Sam is a giant, that results in Castiel's feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Dean laughs and takes a quick picture with his phone. Castiel looks shocked. He sends Dean a very clear _help me!_ look, but Dean ignores it; he's too busy laughing. When Sam finally puts Castiel down, the angel looks very pleased to have his feet on the ground again.

"Cas, you're the best," Sam says emphatically.

"Thank you?" Castiel replies, his voice raising in a question at the end. Dean hides another laugh.

"Did you make breakfast too, or were you too busy making it snow?" Dean asks. Castiel looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Were you expecting me to make breakfast? I could try to, if you want, but-"

"I'm kidding, Cas," Dean interrupts. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn Castiel was blushing. "Actually, I picked something up when I went out two days ago." Dean goes into the cooler and pulls out a small box. Sam's eyebrows shoot up. "Cinnamon buns."

Dean didn't think it was physically possible for Sam to look any happier than he already did, but apparently he was wrong. "You got cinnamon buns?" he asks, his smile getting impossibly bigger. Dean grins back and passes the box over to Sam. Inside are three giant, sticky cinnamon buns. "Dean, I love you so much right now."

"What are cinnamon buns?" Castiel asks, peering into the box. Sam looks at Castiel with wide eyes.

"Okay, do you know how you can make your vessel's taste buds work or whatever?" Sam asks. Castiel looks a little embarrassed at the sudden attention.

"Um, potentially?" he replies. Sam nods.

"You're eating a cinnamon bun," he declares. Dean looks at Castiel in shock.

"How come you'll do this for Sam and a freaking cinnamon bun but not for me and pie?" he demands. Castiel looks down and mumbles something. "No, I'm demanding an answer for this one," Dean says. Castiel looks up at Dean through his lashes.

"I thought you would want my slice as well, considering how much you love pie, so I wanted you to have it," he murmurs. Dean's floored by the answer. Sam shoots Dean a sappy look over Castiel's head and mimes kissing. Dean almost flips him off, but he doesn't want Castiel to think it's directed at him.

"Well, you're going to have to eat pie at some point," Dean instructs. "But you can use the cinnamon bun as a tester for how well you can get your taste buds to work or whatever."

"I can't _believe_ you got cinnamon buns," Sam gushes - really, that's the only word for it and it only confirms Dean's theory that Sam is secretly a girl - as they sit at the table. "You're my favorite brother."

"Well, considering I pretty much raised you and we only knew Adam for a few days, I better be," Dean replies teasingly as he puts one of the cinnamon buns on a paper plate for Sam. He hands it to his brother along with a fork. "No orgasmic noises, please," he requests. Sam grins wickedly and takes a bite, then proceeds to make the most ridiculous moaning noises. Castiel looks shocked.

"Is that really what humans sound like when they procreate?" he asks, looking horrified. Dean almost falls over, he's laughing so hard. Sam nearly chokes on his cinnamon bun. "What did I say that was so humorous?" Castiel demands, but Sam and Dean are too busy laughing to answer him.

Finally, a few minutes later - Castiel is rather annoyed with both of the brothers for not telling him what he had said that was so funny - Dean manages to regain control of himself. It's a difficult task. "Okay, Cas, so do you want to try the cinnamon bun now?" he asks. Castiel looks a little wary.

"Will it cause me to make the same noises Sam made?" he asks. Sam's off in renewed bouts of laughter instantly, but Dean manages to keep it together. Barely.

"Um, no, I don't think so. Sam's just being weird. You'll be fine." Dean shoves the plate at Castiel, who slowly cuts off a bit of the cinnamon bun and puts it on his fork. Shooting Dean an almost worried look, he takes a small bite.

"This is…highly pleasing," Castiel says after a moment's reflection. "I enjoy this greatly."

"If you think this is good, you'll love pie," Dean replies. Castiel nods.

"I believe I would like to try pie," he replies. Dean grins.

"Sam, we did it," he calls to his brother. Sam looks over at him. He's literally got tears streaming down his face from laughing so hard.

"Did what?" he asks, wiping his cheeks.

"Corrupted an angel," Dean replies. Sam looks over as Castiel slowly, cautiously, continues to eat the cinnamon bun. He sighs.

"Dean, come on. He's a freaking angel of the Lord. Did you really have to ruin him?"

"I do not believe Dean has ruined me," Castiel puts in. "I think Dean's influence has made me better than the soldier I was when I first met you." Dean's touched, but he can't show it, of course; he's a Winchester. Instead, he just sticks his tongue out at Sam.

"See? He thinks I made him better." Sam sighs heavily.

"Well, we should totally trust the opinion of the mini-Dean," he replies. "Next thing you know he'll be dressing like you. Though at least he'll have lost the trench coat."

"What's wrong with my trench coat?" Castiel asks, looking confused and a little upset. Dean sighs.

"Nothing's wrong with it, Cas. Sam's just being a bitch."

"Jerk," Sam shoots back automatically. Castiel looks from Sam to Dean.

"Why is it that both of those insults are considered normal and yet assbutt is not?" he asks. Sam starts laughing hysterically again while Dean does a legitimate facepalm. He really ought to get paid for this.

* * *

After a very eventful breakfast and clean up - Castiel ends up eating half of Dean's cinnamon bun when he's not looking, which results in Dean dumping his glass of water on Castiel's head - Sam bounds over to the tree in excitement. "Present time!" he squeals, which only cements Dean's earlier theory that Sam's a girl. "I really hope you guys like what I got you."

"I should get the presents I got for you," Dean says, going into his room. He grabs the crudely-wrapped presents out from under his bed and puts them under the tree, where Sam has apparently placed his gifts. There are also two immaculately-wrapped boxes which Dean assumes are from Castiel. Angel magic must somehow also give the ability to make gifts look like they came out of a Christmas movie or something.

"Open mine first," Sam demands. His presents are wrapped in newspaper, which isn't great, but it's better than Dean's presents. He shoves one at Castiel and the other at Dean. Dean's a little wary about opening his present, but he does so. Inside is a book, which confuses Dean at first, until he looks at the title.

"A book all about my baby?" he asks. The book is a history of the Chevy Impala. Dean hadn't even known it existed. "Sam, you are the best."

Sam beams. "Cas, open yours," he encourages. Castiel slowly opens his present to find a beautiful book full of pictures of nature in different season. "You mentioned once that you love nature, so I thought you would like this," Sam says. He looks a little worried. Castiel flips through the book almost reverently.

"Sam, these pictures are beautiful," he whispers. "Thank you. I love it."

Sam looks pleased with himself. "Alright, you two should open mine," Dean puts in, grabbing the presents. He hands one to Sam and the other to Castiel.

"Nice wrapping," Sam says sarcastically. Dean flips him off.

"Just open it, whiney bitch."

"Jerk," Sam replies automatically, pulling the book out of the bag. He starts to chuckle as he looks at the cover and is laughing as he starts flipping through it. "Thanks, Dean." Dean grins.

"Yeah, I thought it was funny too. Wait until you get to the vampire page. And the ghosts are hilarious." Sam grins and continues to peruse the book as Dean turns to Cas. "Open yours."

Castiel slowly pulls his book out of the bag. "Thank you, Dean," he says upon seeing the title, but he doesn't sound overly enthusiastic. Dean grins.

"Open it up," he encourages. Castiel opens the book and gasps audibly.

"Dean, these images are beautiful," he whispers as a finger traces over the picture on the first page. It's a beautifully done image of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Dean grins.

"I thought you'd like it," he replies. Castiel curls up on the couch and starts to flip through the book carefully. Occasionally, he stops on a page and looks at a picture for a moment longer than the others. Dean wonders what those pictures are, but he doesn't ask. And he pretends he doesn't see the brightness in Castiel's eyes that's a sure sign of unshed tears.

Sam finishes flipping through the book and sets it aside. He looks over at Dean, who shakes his head before Sam has a chance to ask anything. Sam was always in a rush to open all of the presents on Christmas and he never cared if the others weren't ready. But Dean doesn't want to push Castiel, not on his first Christmas. Sam sighs, but he seems to get it. Unfortunately, his overly-loud sigh startles Castiel enough to drag him out of the book.

"Oh, are you waiting on me?" he asks, looking embarrassed. "I apologize. I believe I am next in line to give my presents?"

"Yeah, but you can keep reading if you want, Cas," Dean replies. Castiel puts his new copy of the Bible down carefully and shakes his head.

"I can finish this later." Castiel gets up and takes the two boxes out from under the tree. "I apologize; I did not buy the gifts for you. And they are not books either. Is that tradition?"

"Nah, not really. It's fine, Cas," Dean reassures. "So if you didn't buy the gifts, where did you get them?"

"I made them," Castiel replies. Curiosity piqued, Dean pulls the ribbon off the box. Sam isn't as gentle and tears the wrapping paper off. Dean sighs. Overexcited puppy, definitely. The box inside is small and white. Dean takes off his wrapping paper carefully and takes longer to get to the box than Sam does, but he's there in a moment. Sam's waited for him, surprisingly enough, and they open the boxes together.

"Holy crap, Cas, this is awesome!" Dean says as he takes a bracelet out of the box. Sam has a matching one that he pulls out. It's a simple leather thong, adorned only with a blue crystal. It looks almost like the crystal is clear and holding the color inside it. It's a pure, perfect blue, the same shade as Castiel's eyes. "What type of stone is this?"

"It's not a stone," Castiel corrects. "It's a bit of my Grace. I took a small piece of it and made it into the crystal. This will counteract the sigils on your ribs for me only, so as long as you wear the bracelet, I'll know where you are without you having to call for me. And whenever you're wearing it, I'll know if you're in danger so I can help you. Just in case we ever get separated."

"Cas, this is so cool!" Sam half-gasps. Dean wonders how long it'll be before his brother starts fangirling about how he now is the proud owner of a bit of an angel's Grace. "Thanks, man!"

"Yeah, Cas, thanks," Dean adds. Castiel smiles shyly.

"You're welcome," he replies. Dean instantly puts his bracelet on. It fits perfectly, not that he expected any differently; hell, an angel made it! Of course it'll fit! Sam does the same. Castiel looks very pleased.

"Well, I think I'm going to read this," Dean says, holding up the book Sam gave him. "Oh, wow. I'm voluntarily reading a book. This is freaking weird!" Sam laughs.

"Fine with me. I'm going to actually read this," he replies, holding up the book that Dean gave him. "It looks hilarious. What about you, Cas?" But Castiel already has his nose in the new copy of the Bible that Dean got him. Dean grins.

"Leave him alone, Sam. I think he's found God." Sam rolls his eyes at the terrible quip, but does as Dean asks. The three sit in quiet, reading peacefully. It's a rare feeling, this peace, and Dean means to milk every moment of it with his new book.

But he can't focus on the words in front of him.

Every time he tries to read, the words swim in front of his eyes. At first, he's a little worried - he's only in his thirties, he can't possibly need reading glasses! But after a few moments, he realizes it's not a problem with his eyes. It's a problem with his five-second attention span.

Because Dean can't stop thinking about Castiel.

He's accepted that he's in love with the angel and Castiel isn't in love with him. But now, on his wrist, is a part of the angel's Grace. That seems pretty intimate to Dean. Then again, Castiel gave the same gift to Sam, so it can't be all that intimate. Dean hopes. Still, the fact that an integral part of the angel is against his skin makes Dean feel a little tingly. It gives him hope, even though he knows he's being ridiculous; Castiel doesn't like him back and he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. But his mind can say that all it wants; his heart doesn't care. He's managed to convince himself that Castiel loves him, and now the thought won't go away.

Dean gradually becomes aware of an unpleasantly hard boner as he thinks more about Castiel. He tries to shift to make it more comfortable, but at the same time, he doesn't want anyone to notice it. _Damn it, _he thinks to himself. _Think of something that's not sexy. Really not sexy. Think of Bobby naked. Damn, it's not working! How is thinking of a naked Bobby not working? That always works!_

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Dean announces. It turns out there's only one way to deal with this problem, as much as Dean doesn't want to. Thankfully, the place still has water, so Dean can shower. There's no heating, but that's not a bad thing; Dean was planning on a cold shower anyway.

"It'll be freezing," Sam warns. "With the snow out there? You'll probably regret taking a shower a few moments after you go in there."

"I don't care," Dean replies, shifting again. "I really need to shower." Without waiting for any more discussion, Dean puts down his book and tries to go to the bathroom in a way that'll hide his boner in the best way possible. He's pretty sure that Sam might have seen it, but he hopes his brother will just put it down as morning wood. Dean would love to convince himself that that's all it is, but he knows it's more.

_Goddamn angel with his goddamn blue eyes and his goddamn hair that always looks like he's just had sex!_ Dean swears internally as he strips. He turns on the water and steps in without really noticing the temperature and then almost screams like prepubescent teenage boy.

Sam's right; it's really _really_ freaking cold.

* * *

**So, um, I'm pretty sure this all still falls under a T rating, right? I don't think I'll have to move the rating up. If anyone thinks differently, they can leave a review saying so. And please leave a review anyway. See ya tomorrow for Christmas Day, part 2!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, in continuation of yesterday's AN, I realized that as well as having the days for the updates not line up the way I wanted them to, I'm also spending more time on each day than I thought I would. The original plan was to have two Christmas chapters, but somehow I ended up with three. So there will probably be a thirteenth chapter. There will at least definitely be an epilogue. I hope you guys will enjoy it! And while you're at it, enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I wish I did, but I don't.**

* * *

After Dean's really really _really_ freaking cold shower, he gets dressed and leaves the bathroom. Castiel is still reading the Bible, his lips silently forming a word every now and then. Sam's over at the kitchen, making some sort of food. Dean's not sure what it is, but it seems to involve fruits, so he's not all that interested.

"So you like it?" Dean asks. Castiel looks up at him.

"These images are beautiful. Not all of them are correct, of course, but I can still appreciate the time that has been put into creating them." Dean grins.

"But you like it? I mean, if you don't, we can go back to Wal-Mart and return it." Castiel smiles slightly as he gently closes the book.

"I love it, Dean. You don't need to worry."

"Yeah, but…" Dean looks down, biting his lip. He sits next to Castiel on the couch. "I mean, you gave me part of your freaking Grace. And I just bought you a book for twenty bucks at Wal-Mart. It just feels like…"

"Dean, I have seen your soul," Castiel says softly when Dean's voice trails off. "When I rescued you from Hell, despite how twisted your soul had became, it was still beautiful. I have never seen a brighter essence, nor have I ever met a better man than you, Dean Winchester. Meeting you was a better present than anything anyone could ever get me, and I thank my father that I was assigned to you every day." Dean's touched beyond words. "I apologize if that is what you refer to as a 'chick flick' moment." Dean grins.

"It's fine, Cas," he replies. Then Sam ruins the moment by coming over with a bowl of cut up fruit. Dean's not sure how he can still be hungry; he ate his entire cinnamon bun before and it was freaking gigantic. And yet here Sam is, eating a giant bowl of fruit. Dean doesn't understand it.

"So what should we do now?" Sam asks. Dean shrugs and looks over at Castiel, who looks a little shy.

"I had an idea, but…"

"What is it?" Dean asks when no more information is forthcoming. Castiel looks up timidly.

"In Heaven, to celebrate the Savior's birth, angels perform a blessing on one another. I believe that, with a few changes, I could perform it on you two, if you wish."

"What do you mean by blessing?" Dean asks. Castiel shrugs slightly.

"Simply a blessing for good health and good luck. If you do not wish for it-"

"No, that sounds great," Dean interrupts. Castiel's face brightens and Dean feels like he's just made the angel's day. Which is weird, because it's Christmas and Castiel should not be so excited just because Dean's told him that he can bless him or whatever.

Castiel goes over to the cabinet and pulls out a jar. It looks like holy oil, but there's something different about it too. And Castiel wouldn't be so casual about one of the few things that can actually kill him.

Castiel takes the oil and dips his fingers in it. It smells far more fragrant than the holy oil they've used before to trap angels. "This is a special type of oil that has been used in blessings for centuries. It was difficult to find for you, but…"

"Did you leave the wards to find it?" Dean asks, suddenly worried that Castiel was being reckless. Castiel shakes his head.

"I've…I've had it for…well, a long while."

"How long?" Sam asks. Castiel looks a little embarrassed.

"Um, for a few years?" His voice raises at the end. Dean's shocked.

"A few years? You mean you've literally been waiting for us to have a Christmas celebration for years? How many?"

"Well, I thought that maybe, when the Apocalypse was imminent, you could celebrate, but…"

"Three years?" Dean asks in shock. Castiel shifts awkwardly.

"Maybe…" he replies shyly. Dean shakes his head fondly.

"Cas, you…you are something else." Castiel look a little confused.

"Do you mean something else, rather than human? Because I am an angel, as you well know. Or do you mean-"

"Figure of speech, Cas!" Dean interrupts. Castiel blushes slightly.

"Oh."

"Dean, stop embarrassing the angel and let him bless us already," Sam chastises. Dean pulls back slightly.

"Right. Sorry, Cas." Castiel smiles slightly.

"It's not a problem, Dean." Castiel dips two fingers in the oil again, then places them on Dean's forehead. He makes a line of oil from Dean's hairline to between his eyebrows, then makes a corresponding horizontal line that crosses the vertical lines in their exact center. He does the same on Sam. Then he shakes his hand slightly and all of the remaining oil is gone. He places one hand on Dean's head and the other on Sam's. He starts murmuring something in a language that Dean doesn't understand, but it sends tingles down his spine. Dean guesses it's probably Enochian, considering it's an angelic blessing. He feels a warmth spreading from the top of his head down to his toes. It feels almost like it did when he was in God's presence, but more...intimate, somehow. When Dean was with God, it felt like a parent's embrace. Now, it feels more like a kiss, maybe, or a lover's embrace. Which is awkward, considering Dean might be in love with Castiel, but Castiel almost definitely (Dean knows it's probably "definitely," but he wants to keep a little hope) doesn't love him back.

"Wow," Sam says a moment after Castiel stops chanting and takes his hands off the brothers' heads. "That was…"

"Awesome," Dean puts in as Sam's voice trails off. "Completely awesome. Thanks, dude." Castiel smiles shyly. The jar of oil disappears behind him.

"I am glad you found it enjoyable." Now there's an awkward silence when no one knows quite what to do or say. Finally, after quite a few long minutes, Dean breaks it.

"I wish Bobby were here," he says softly. Sam and Castiel both look at him. "I think he'd like this."

"What happened to him?" Castiel asks softly. "I know only that he died. His spirit is up in Heaven…"

"It is?" Dean asks excitedly. Castiel looks at Dean in confusion.

"Yes. Why would it not be?" Dean feels relief course through his body. One of his biggest fears when he burned the flask was that Bobby would be stuck in Purgatory or some type of nothingness rather than going to Heaven, but apparently that worry was unfounded.

Castiel is still looking at Dean with a curious expression. Dean doesn't really want to talk about it, but Castiel deserves to know sooner or later. Bobby was like family to him as well, Dean knows.

"We were running from Dick Roman. Bobby had been kidnapped by him. Sam and I went in to save him. And we got him out and in the car. But just before we closed the door…" Dean's voice breaks. Sam takes over.

"Roman shot him in the head. We brought him to a hospital, but there was nothing they could do. He didn't make it."

"But then he came back as a ghost," Dean adds. "He fought off his Reaper. He was the one that led me to you, actually."

"Really?" Castiel asks. Dean nods.

"We, amnesic human you, anyway. He was attached to his old flask. After he started to go all vengeful spirit, we burned the flask."

"And that was why you were afraid he would not end up in Heaven?" Castiel asks. Dean nods. "After its time as a ghost, a human soul travels to wherever it was destined to go before it became a ghost. Only occasionally do the events that occurred after death play a role. Bobby is in Heaven."

"That's a relief," Sam says. Castiel looks down.

"So Bobby was killed by Leviathans," he remarks. "Which means it was my fault."

"No it wasn't," Dean replies sternly. Castiel laughs bitterly.

"Yes it was, Dean. Don't try and defend me. I brought those creatures out of Purgatory and onto Earth. It was my fault."

"You were making the best of a bad situation. And you tried to send the dicks back. It wasn't your fault, Cas." Sam looks mildly surprised at Dean's vehement pronouncement; after Bobby's death, he had spent a fair amount of time cursing Leviathans and, sometimes, Castiel as well. But he hasn't meant it, not really. He just wanted someone to blame and Castiel was a convenient scapegoat.

"I should never have worked with Crowley," Castiel mutters. Dean shrugs.

"Sam and I did. We really can't blame you too much."

"That's not what you said two years ago," Castiel reminds Dean. He sighs.

"I was a hypocrite. And I've grown. Now can we stop arguing and have a nice Christmas?" Dean demands. Castiel nods once. It's barely more than a dip of his head, but at least it's something.

"I know what Bobby would say if he was here," Sam says after a moment. Dean looks at him. "He'd say we're being idiots for not taking advantage of these wards. We should be celebrating. Which means Dean, you need to quick picking fights with Cas and Cas, you need to quit being such a martyr that Dean wants to argue with you." Dean feels a little ashamed and, from the expression on his face, Dean assumes Castiel feels about the same.

"Sorry," Dean replies. Castiel murmurs an apology as well.

"It's fine," Sam replies. "Just don't start arguing again." Dean nods. He can do that. He doesn't want to argue with Castiel, but when the angel says stuff like what he's been saying, Dean just can't help it.

"What time is it?" Dean asks after a pause.

"Nine thirty-seven," Castiel replies before Sam can pull out his phone. Dean nods.

"Okay. So what should we do for the rest of the day?"

Sam shrugs. Castiel looks from Sam to Dean. "What do humans normally do on Christmas?" he asks. Dean looks over at Sam.

"Um…"

"Normally visit family," Sam cuts in smoothly. "But we don't really have any family to visit and you can't leave the cabin anyway, so…"

"If my presence is preventing you from doing something you wish to do, then by all means leave," Castiel offers. Dean shakes his head.

"Cas, you're pretty much the only family we've got left at the moment. We're not leaving." Castiel looks a little embarrassed and a little pleased.

Sam grins. "Anyway, you don't want us to leave, do you? You can't get enough of us." Dean wants to shut his brother up desperately, but he has to be subtle about it. But it doesn't matter; Castiel doesn't get it.

"I don't understand that reference," he says, his eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted to the side. Sam grins.

"It means-"

"It's nothing, Cas," Dean interrupts. "Sam's just being an idiot." Dean's not sure if Sam knows how he feels about Castiel, but he wouldn't be surprised if his brother did. He also wouldn't be surprised if Sam decided to do something stupid to try and set the two of them up or something. But if Dean is going to seduce Castiel or whatever, he'd rather do it without Sam's help.

"I wish you could enjoy the snow, Cas," Sam remarks with a sigh. "I mean, you brought it here, so you should get a chance to play in it."

"Unlike you, Cas isn't a five year old," Dean shoots back. Sam gives him one of his signature bitchfaces. Dean's not surprised.

"What exactly does one do in the snow?" Castiel asks, tilting his head to the side. Dean looks at him in shock.

"You've never played in the snow before?"

Castiel looks at Dean almost pityingly. "Dean, there are more important things to do in Heaven than play in the snow," he replies in a voice that shows he thought that should have been clear. Dean shakes his head.

"Okay, after your angel thing blows over, we're going to Alaska or something and we are having a snowball fight."

"I thought you and Cas were above such things," Sam remarks sarcastically. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Well, Sam, considering what I want to do isn't make a snowman-"

"I thought we weren't supposed to be arguing," Castiel cuts in, looking confused. Sam and Dean look at each other.

"He's right," Sam remarks. Dean nods.

"Yeah. Sorry, Cas, we'll stop. So, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Castiel replies, looking a little shocked that he was asked. "I was thinking I would continue reading."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Killjoy," he mutters under his breath. Castiel frowns.

"What is a 'killjoy'?" he asks, air quotes and all. Sam rolls his eyes.

"Dean's just being a jerk," he says. "Ignore him."

"Bitch," Dean retaliates. Castiel takes Sam's advice and picks up the same damn book that he's been reading for the past week. Dean wonders how Castiel can practically finish reading the Bible in a matter of hours and yet is still only three quarters of the way through this book. Granted, it's much bigger, but still.

"Well, then," Dean asks, turning to Sam. "Found a case yet?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam replies. He pushes his laptop towards Dean. "Looks like a wendigo."

"A wendigo?" Dean asks with a groan. "Really? Isn't there anyone else that could deal with it?"

"The closest hunter we know that isn't on a case of their own is in Nevada," Sam replies. "I called Garth. I knew you wouldn't want to do it, but people are dying and we're their best hope."

"Damn," Dean swears. "Fine. Are you sure it's a wendigo?"

"Pretty sure," Sam replies. "Not a hundred percent positive, of course, but pretty sure." Dean groans again.

"So we're either fighting a wendigo, which is a pain in the ass to kill, or we're fighting something else that likes snacking on humans."

"Pretty much," Sam replies. Dean groans for a third time. "Any chance you could help us out on this?" he calls over to Castiel. The angel looks up at him, seeming lost.

"Help with what?" he asks. Dean sighs.

"Never mind." Dean grabs one of the books on the table at random and opens it. "Guess we better start researching."

"Dean, in all likelihood, it's a wendigo," Sam replies. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Sam, when is it ever what we think it is?" he asks. Sam thinks for a moment, then nods.

"True. But still, shouldn't we wait until we get there to start researching?" Sam asks. Dean shrugs.

"Got nothing better to do," he replies, sitting down next to Castiel with the book. Sam's about to say something else, then a smirk curls his lip and he returns his attention to his laptop. Dean's not sure what his brother was thinking, but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know.

And if it's something about how he's sitting with Castiel, Dean's sure that'll have no affect on his researching at all. You know, because he's not going to shoot sideways looks at the angel when he's sure he's not looking or anything. He's not a teenage girl sitting next to her first crush.

Five minutes later, Dean catches himself watching Castiel rather than reading his book. The angel is occasionally writing quick notes in the margins, but when he's not, the pencil keeps finding his way to his mouth. Without even seeming to realize it, Castiel's chewing absentmindedly on the eraser. Occasionally, a small indulgent smile will cross Castiel's face and he'll jot down something in the book. He hasn't noticed Dean's staring yet.

Dean shakes himself mentally. He needs to focus on researching, not on watching Castiel like some sort of creep. He turns his eyes back to his book.

He's still on the first page of the introduction.

Maybe sitting next to Castiel will be distracting after all. _Especially _if he keeps chewing on the pencil like that.

* * *

**Sorry this one wasn't quite as long as the others, but I liked the stopping point and it was either this or have a break and a super long chapter. I decided I would have it be a bit shorter rather than much longer. I hope you don't mind!**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, this is the final Christmas chapter, and there will finally be the long-anticipated kiss! But just because I'm nearing the end of the story, don't think it's going to be rainbows and kittens for the next few chapters! Muahahaha...**

**Disclaimer: Though I can be as bad as the Supernatural producers with torturing characters and being cruel to readers, I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

Around noon, Sam goes out and gets burgers from the local Burger King; it's the only thing that's open. He also gets three slices of apple pie, which Castiel enjoys much more now that he's able to truly taste things. Then the three settle down to play a game.

Dean isn't all that excited about it, but Sam insists and Castiel's curious, so he's overruled. Sam grins. "Let's play 'Never Have I Ever,'" he suggests. Dean groans.

"Really, Sammy? We can't play poker or something a little more grown up?"

"This game sounds interesting," Castiel puts in shyly and Dean knows he'll end up cooperating now. "How does one play?"

"You say something you've never done but you think someone else has," Sam explains. "If someone says something you've done, then you put down a finger. The last person to put all of their fingers down is the winner." Castiel nods, still looking a little confused. "You'll get it once we start," Sam adds. "That is, if you want to play."

"I think I would like to," Castiel replies. Dean groans loudly, but it's mostly just for show; he'd like the opportunity to learn a little more about Castiel.

"Okay, so put all of your fingers out,' Sam instructs. Castiel dubiously spreads his fingers. Dean and Sam do as well. "I'll go first. Never have I ever…" Suddenly, Sam's face lights up. "Never have I ever coached a lesbian in flirting with a guy."

"You suck, Sammy," Dean groans as he puts down a finger. Castiel looks over at him curiously, tilting his head to the side. "There were extenuating circumstances, okay?" he snaps. Castiel looks down.

"Okay, Dean, your turn," Sam says after a pause. Dean thinks for a moment, then grins.

"Never have I ever drank demon blood," he says triumphantly. Sam gives him a bitchface and puts a finger down. To everyone's surprise, Castiel puts a finger down as well. Dean looks at him confusion. "Cas, when did _you_ drink demon blood?"

"During my…reeducation in Heaven, before Lucifer was released, I was forced to ingest demon blood. It affects an angel far more profoundly than it does a human. It was very unpleasant." Dean and Sam are both shocked. Castiel seems almost unfazed. "It was years ago," he adds as both of the brothers look at him. "It does not matter now. Except in the context of the game, I suppose."

"Well, I guess it's your turn, Cas," Dean says in a slightly shaky voice after a long pause. Castiel thinks for a moment.

"Um… Am I to start with the phrase 'never have I ever'?" he asks. Sam nods. "Never have I ever made love to a woman." Both Sam and Dean give Castiel a look as they each put a finger down. Castiel looks rather pleased with himself.

"My turn," Sam says. He grins devilishly. "Never have I ever had a 'more profound bond,'" he says. Both Dean and Castiel put a finger down. Dean glares at his brother. Yes, he didn't want to play the game, but if he's forced to, he'll play it for all he's worth. He's not going to half-ass this.

"Never have I ever been the Devil's vessel," Dean shoots back at Sam. Sam gives him another bitchface as he puts down a finger. "Cas, your turn."

"Never have I ever…um…" Castiel looks lost, then his eyes light up as something seems to come to him. "Never have I ever owned a car." Both Dean and Sam give the angel a look as they put fingers down. Sam's eyes narrow slightly; he's obviously going to go after Castiel specifically now. Dean would…only he can't. The angel seems to be so happy and…well, as long as Sam doesn't beat Dean, he's fine with whatever outcome they have.

"Never have I ever fought in an angelic civil war," Sam says. Yeah, he's definitely going after Castiel. The angel puts a finger down, not seeming to care. He's still winning.

"Never have I ever exorcised a demon without speaking," Dean says. Both Sam and Castiel put down fingers, with Sam giving Dean yet another bitchface. Now Dean and Castiel are tied with six fingers remaining. Sam has five left.

"Never have I ever used one of those 'smartphones,'" Castiel offers up, air-quotes and all. Dean looks at him in shock as he and Sam both put fingers down.

"You've never used a smartphone?"

"No," Castiel replies, shrugging. "I have never had the need for it. When I was married to Daphne, we both had…erm, do you call them dumb phones?" Dean literally falls out of his chair he's laughing so hard and Sam has tears coming out of his eyes. Castiel looks confused. "Was I really that humorous?"

When Sam can finally talk again, he manages to gasp out, "Never have I ever performed a miracle." Castiel puts a finger down.

"Never have I ever gotten married," Dean says with a grin. Sam and Castiel both put down a finger. Castiel looks at Sam in confusion.

"Sam, when did you get married?" he asks. Sam groans.

"It was quick, I was under a love spell, we don't talk about it," he replies. Castiel takes a moment to process that before nodding. Now Dean's winning, followed by Castiel and then Sam.

"Never have I ever played poker," Castiel says with a smile. Both Sam and Dean put a finger down. "Thank you for mentioning it earlier, Dean," Castiel adds. "I would not have thought of that had you not said it." Sam extends the bitchface he was directing at Castiel to include Dean as well. Dean and Castiel are now tied with four fingers remaining, while Sam only has two fingers still up.

"Never have I ever been to Purgatory," Sam says. Both Dean and Castiel put a finger down.

"Never have I ever been in Lucifer's Cage," Dean shoots back. He's sure that's not a happy memory for Sam (if he does remember it at all; they haven't mentioned those memories since Castiel shifted Sam's insanity to his own mind), but Purgatory's not a happy memory for him or Castiel, so he sees it as fair play.

Castiel and Sam both put a finger down. "I had to enter the Cage to rescue Sam's body," Castiel says when he sees Dean looking at him curiously. Dean nods in understanding

Sam's only got one finger left up and it's Castiel's turn now. "Never have I ever fought the horseman War," Castiel says, his voice almost triumphant. Both Sam and Dean put down a finger.

"You guys suck," Sam grumbles; he's out. Dean just grins at him innocently.

"Well, you wanted to play the game in the first place," he replies. Now he and Castiel are both left with only two fingers remaining. Chances are Dean will win, considering he'll be able to go twice before Castiel can. Still, he might let the angel win.

"Never have I ever read the entire Bible," Dean says. Castiel puts down a finger.

"Never have I ever sold my soul for my brother," he shoots back. Dean puts down a finger. They've both only got one left.

Dean opens his mouth. He's got his question prepared. _Never have I ever been insane._ He knows it'll get Castiel and he'll be the winner. But that's not what comes out. "Never have I ever met Jesus Christ," he says instead, changing his mind at the last minute. Though he doesn't think either Sam or Castiel know, he heard them talking the day before and knows that Castiel hasn't ever met Jesus either. He's letting the angel win, which really doesn't fit in with his competitive streak. Still, Castiel looks so damn pleased with himself and Dean's willing to sacrifice his win to keep the angel looking that happy.

"Neither have I," Castiel replies. Something about the look in his eyes makes Dean think Castiel knows that Dean's letting him win. "Never have I ever kissed another man."

Dean doesn't put a finger down. He's a little confused at first before he realizes that Castiel is returning the favor and giving him a question he knows won't get Dean. But now that Dean's decided that he's going to let Castiel win, he's going to let the angel win, damn it!

"Never have I ever listened voluntarily to Ke$ha's music," Dean shoots back. He's never listened to that crap except for half a second on the radio and there's no way Castiel has either. The angel doesn't put down a finger.

"Never have I ever hated the Impala," Castiel says. Dean doesn't put down a finger.

"Never have I ever gone to the moon."

"Never have I ever met a unicorn."

"Never have I ever kissed Raphael."

"Never have I ever thrown out pie."

"Never have I ever-"

"Okay, that's enough," Sam interrupts irritably. "Both of you are tied, since you're both being ridiculous and trying to let the other person win. So you both win. Happy now?"

Dean and Castiel look at each other. Even though it was blatantly obvious what they were doing, being called out on it is different. After a moment, Castiel nods. "I am pleased with that outcome."

"What he said," Dean replies. Sam sighs, muttering something about stupid angels and brothers and "more profound bonds."

* * *

The rest of the day is mostly uneventful and it's not until around quarter to midnight that the three have an actual conversation. "So Cas, the wards are breaking in about fifteen minutes," Dean says nonchalantly. "What are you going to do once they're gone?"

"I will continue running from my brethren," Castiel replies. "I have done it before, I can do it again. If my father is truly able to stop the other angels from chasing me, I will probably return to you and stay here."

"No way we can convince you not to leave?" Dean asks. Castiel shakes his head.

"I must not put you in danger, Dean. I cannot let your deaths by on my conscience." Dean knows that, but he'll still try.

"Come on, Cas, we won't die. Even if we do, we'll probably come back again, considering how much God seems to love us. Either that or Death hates us so much that he just can't keep us."

"Dean, you should not tempt fate," Castiel admonishes. Dean shrugs.

"Well, I've met Fate, and she's a bitch. So I don't really care." Castiel looks exasperated, but he doesn't say anything else.

"Where are you going to go?" Sam asks softly. Castiel looks at him.

"I don't know. I was thinking that I should like to visit some of the places that I went to on my search for God. I quite enjoyed Hawaii."

"You went to Hawaii?" Dean asks. Castiel nods. "Were there girls wearing nothing but grass skirts and coconut bras like in the movies?" Castiel looks confused.

"How would one use a coconut as a bra?"

"Never mind," Dean replies as Sam snickers. Castiel still looks confused, but he drops the subject.

"Well, what should we do for the last…eleven minutes of Christmas?" Sam asks, checking the time on his phone. Dean shrugs.

"I don't know. Did we ever break out the spiked eggnog?" Sam shakes his head, looking shocked.

"No, I forgot!" Quickly, Sam goes into the kitchen area and grabs two Solo cups. So maybe it's not glamorous, but they work. "Cas, you want any?"

"No thank you," Castiel replies. Sam pours eggnog into each of the cups, then adds some of the whiskey he bought. He hands one to Dean, who takes a cautious sip. He hasn't forgotten how strong the eggnog was last time. This time, thankfully, it's not as bad.

"I feel like we should be singing a Christmas carol or something," Sam says as he takes a sip of his eggnog. Dean laughs.

"Um, no. No singing here."

"What sort of songs would one sing?" Castiel asks. Sam shrugs.

"I don't know. A Christmas carol. Like Rudolph. Or Santa Claus is Coming to Town." Castiel looks confused at both of those. "Um…O Holy Night?" Sam offers, choosing a more religious song. "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen?"

"Ah," Castiel replies. "Daphne played a few Christmas songs. One I especially liked was called In the Bleak Midwinter."

"Do you remember how it goes?" Dean asks, only half teasing. He wants to know if the angel can sing. He bets he can; Castiel seems to be able to do anything.

"I remember most of it," Castiel replies. Dean grins.

"You wanna sing it for us?"

"If you wish to hear it," Castiel replies. Sam gives Dean a stern look, but it does nothing.

"Sounds great to me," Dean replies. Castiel closes his eyes, as if trying to remember something. Then the first soft, wavering note comes out and Dean knows he was right, because damn! Castiel can sing.

"_In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone,_" Castiel begins. He's got a tenor voice that most singers would kill for. Dean's transfixed at the first note. "_Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago._"

Castiel pauses in the song for a moment. Sam opens his mouth as if to speak, but Dean quickly and silently cuts him off. He wants to see if the angel will keep singing. And keep singing he does.

"_Our God, heaven cannot hold him, or earth sustain; heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign. In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ._" Castiel pauses again, then jumps into another verse. "_Angels and archangels may have gathered there, cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; but only his mother, in her maiden bliss, worshipped the beloved with a kiss._"

There's a longer pause this time, but Dean can tell that Castiel's struggling to remember the last verse. Finally, after a moment, the angel sings another cautious note.

"_What can I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part; yet what can I give him, give my heart._" This time, Dean knows Castiel's stopping because the song's finished. The angel slowly opens his eyes, which are slightly wet with tears. Dean smiles widely.

"That was beautiful, Cas," he says softly.

"It really was," Sam adds. Castiel smiles, blinking a little more often than he needs to in order to get rid of the tears.

"Thank you," he replies softly. Sam grins over at Dean.

"Since he sang for us, should we sing for him? We could do…I don't know, Rudolph or something."

"I am not nearly drunk enough for that," Dean replies, shaking his head with a laugh. Sam sticks his tongue out at Dean.

"Killjoy."

"More like terrible singer. Nothing like Cas here. Cas, you've really got a great voice."

"Thank you," Castiel says again, and Dean thinks his cheeks look a little pinker than normal.

"I mean it. I bet a bunch of those male singers would kill for a voice like yours." Of course, Dean accepts that he might have heard Castiel's voice as more beautiful than it is because he's in love with the angel, but that doesn't mean he didn't hear the most beautiful singing of his life just a minute ago.

"You're too kind," Castiel replies humbly. "I could not have been that good."

"You really were," Sam replies. Castiel's definitely blushing now.

"Hey, we've only got two more minutes of Christmas," Dean says as he looks down at his phone. "We should have a toast or something before you leave, Cas."

"I'll get the whiskey," Sam offers, standing. Dean shakes his head.

"I'll get it," he replies, going towards the kitchen. Suddenly, Castiel stands up behind him.

"I'll go with you," he says awkwardly. Dean's a little confused, but he doesn't question it; Castiel has done weirder things. The angel holds the whiskey while Dean grabs out three new cups, one for each of them. He's insisting that Castiel toast with them, though the angel doesn't quite understand why.

Castiel goes in front of Dean as they leave the kitchen, but he stops abruptly before he goes out into the living room area. "Dean, what is that?" he asks, pointing at a little plant hanging just out of sight in the doorway. They're directly below it.

Dean gives Sam a glare. "Mistletoe."

"And why is it there?" Castiel asks, studying the little plant.

"If people go under the mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss," Sam calls out. Suddenly, Castiel looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Dean sighs.

"We don't have to," he starts, but Sam interrupts him.

"Yes you do. It's a Christmas tradition. And you've still got another minute of Christmas to go."

Dean sighs. "He's not going to leave us alone unless we do," he tells Castiel. The angel is looking at him with wide eyes. "Do you mind…" Castiel shakes his head minutely. Dean leans in for the kiss.

It's only _meant_ to be a quick peck on the lips, just to make Sam stop talking about it. But somehow, it turns into much more than that and Dean's got his arms wrapped around Castiel's waist. The cups have fallen on the floor, forgotten. The whiskey leaves Castiel's hand and appears on the counter as the angel pulls Dean in a bit closer, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. It's the best damn kiss that Dean's ever had.

The beeping of Sam's phone to signal midnight startles both of them into pulling away. "It's December 26th," Castiel says in a soft, stuttering voice. "The wards are gone. I…I have to go."

And before Dean can say anything, the angel is gone.

* * *

**So...not exactly the sweet Destiel fluff that you were expecting, was it? I know, I'm evil. Review if you ever want to find out what happens next.**


	12. Chapter 12

**So, second-to-last chapter. Sorry about the cliffhanger; in the words of Bruce Banner, "I'm sorry. That was mean." Also sorry in advance about the choppiness of this chapter; I'm not a huge fan of the way it reads, but I needed to write it so I would be able to post it on time. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Legally, no, I don't own Supernatural. In my head? Hell yeah I do.**

* * *

Dean remains standing, stunned, under the mistletoe for a minute after Castiel disappears. Sam looks shocked.

"Dean I swear, I didn't think Cas would…"

"Save it, Sam," Dean says harshly. His brother goes silent. "We're moving on. Let's kick this wendigo's ass."

"Dean…"

"We're leaving in ten minutes," Dean snaps. "If you're not in the car, then I'm leaving you." Sam rolls his eyes.

"Can I at least shower first?" he asks sarcastically. Dean sighs.

"Fine," he snaps. "But after that, we're leaving." He goes into his bedroom and grabs his already-packed bag. All his guns are already in the back of the Impala, so all he needs is the bag. When he pulls his jacket on, his attention is drawn back to the Grace-made bracelet on his wrist. He yanks it off and shoves it in his bag.

_I hope you can feel that, you bastard,_ he spits internally at Castiel. Then he leaves the bedroom, grabs the cooler, and is about to leave the cabin when he notices Castiel's two presents are still on the couch. _I don't care,_ he convinces himself feebly. _They can stay here and rot._ He goes out to the car and puts his bag and the cooler in the back, then slams the trunk far harder than he needs to.

Dean sighs and drags his hand over his face. Then he slowly reenters the cabin and grabs the two books off the couch. He puts them in the back of the Impala, just in case Castiel meets up with them again.

He means _when _Castiel meets up with them again, that is. Because this won't ruin their friendship or anything, will it? Castiel will come back. Even if he was uncomfortable with how into the kiss Dean was - Dean assumes that's why Castiel left; it's the only solution that makes sense - he wouldn't leave because of it, would he?

Would he?

Sam comes out a few minutes later, hair dripping wet. He puts his bag in the back and clambers into the passenger seat, yawning widely. "You can sleep," Dean offers, suddenly feeling bad. He knows he should have let Sam sleep in the cabin, but he wants to leave; there's too much of Castiel here. He'd rather be in the car, on the way to fight some man-eating creature, than sitting around where Castiel can find him easily. Which really should say something about his mental state. And anyway, Castiel can find them by searching for the bits of his Grace in the brothers' bracelets, but Dean still spitefully wants to make it difficult. If Castiel wants to run out on them, he's going to have to work to get back.

Sam's phone rings. Dean snags it before it can wake his brother up and answers it. It's Garth.

_"Sam?"_ the other hunter asks.

"It's Dean," Dean replies, shifting his hold on the phone so he can make the turn onto the main road. "You calling about the wendigo?"

_"Um…yeah."_

"Is it a wendigo?" Dean asks; Garth didn't sound too definite. There's a pause. "Garth…" Dean says almost threateningly.

_"I think so,"_ Garth replies slowly. _"I mean, it seems like a wendigo, with its whole M.O. People that are out on camping trips are disappearing."_

"But…" Dean adds, sensing this isn't all.

_"But it's snatching people at their campfires,"_ Garth replies glumly. _"And it's only taken young women."_

"So it probably _isn't_ actually a wendigo," Dean replies irritably. Garth doesn't respond. "Awesome."

_"It still might be,"_ Garth replies. Dean sighs.

"Garth, what it's doing doesn't fit what a wendigo would do and it's almost never what you originally think it is. Trust me on this; it's not a wendigo."

_"Then what is it?"_ Garth asks. Dean groans.

"I don't know. The walking dictionary is asleep. Tell me the details again? It's taking just young women?"

_"Yeah,"_ Garth replies. _"They're disappearing. There's no evidence that they're being eaten or anything, I just kinda assumed they were."_

"Alright. Where is this again?"

_"The Delaware State Forest in Pennsylvania,"_ Garth replies. Dean groans.

"Eight hour drive. Awesome."

_"If you don't want to take the case, maybe I can find someone else. I mean, at the moment the closest hunter that can do it is in Nevada, but-"_

"Sam and I will do it," Dean interrupts. "I'm just not psyched about the drive."

_"Have your angel send you there,"_ Garth suggests. _"It'll be instantaneous, right?"_

"Cas has other things to do," Dean replies, his voice stiff. "Thanks for the info, Garth. We'll call again if we need to." He ends the call and puts the phone down. Then Dean sets his jaw and stares out at the road in front of him. It's half past midnight on December 26th; there's no one there. So Dean pushes the pedal down harder until he's speeding along the highway at nearly a hundred miles per hour, putting all the miles he can between himself and the memories left in the cabin.

* * *

At a little past nine o'clock, Sam and Dean arrive in Monroeton, Pennsylvania. Dean pulls into the Twin Pines Motel, which doesn't look like much. The brothers can't complain, though; they've spent nights in worse places.

"So Garth said that whatever this is has been taking young women?" Sam asks as he looks something up on his phone. Dean nods.

"That's what he said. Taking young women, no signs that they're being eaten or anything, right near campfires so it's probably not a wendigo."

"Huh," Sam replies. "Well, I guess we need to research more."

"I'll talk with the families of the girls that were taken," Dean offers. "You can go to the library and look stuff up."

"Fine," Sam groans. Dean gets them a motel room and changes quickly into a suit. He pulls out a fake FBI badge and puts it in his pocket. Then he goes out into the Impala to talk to the parents of the first girl.

* * *

Every family is a bust. All they can say is where the girls were camping - which is in the same area every time - and how horrified they are. The biggest question is "what would do this, sir?" And since Dean can't exactly respond with "well, we thought it was a monster from Native American legends, but now it seems like it might be something else," it's difficult to answer. He goes back to the motel room tired out, hoping Sam has something good to tell him.

"Dean, good news," Sam says right after Dean walks into the room. _I guess dreams do come true,_ Dean thinks sarcastically as he pulls off his tie. "I think I figured out what we're fighting."

"What is it?" Dean asks, shrugging out of the suit jacket. The damn suit is ridiculously uncomfortable; that's what they get for buying the cheapest ones possible, Dean supposes.

"A Leshovik," Sam replies. "Also know as a Leshi or a Lesnik."

"Yeah, that tells me nothing," Dean admits. Sam sighs.

"It's a Slavic creature. It protects forests. And, get this, it's fond of kidnapping young women."

"Okay…" Dean replies, thinking. It seems to make sense so far, but… "If it's a Slavic creature, what's it doing in Pennsylvania?"

"There's a pretty high Slavic population in some towns in eastern Pennsylvania. When William Penn first founded this as a colony, he invited people from all different places to come here. I guess some of the Slavs might have brought along some of their monsters."

"Okay. Awesome. How do we kill it?" Sam's face falls slightly. "Oh come on, Sam, tell me you know how to kill it!"

"Not exactly," Sam replies in an almost-defensive tone. "But I'm still looking. What did you find out?"

"Well, maybe a location," Dean replies. He grabs a map that he had slipped into his pocket when he went to see the rangers for the park. "We're right near Delaware State Forest, and it seems like all the girls were camping in this area." Dean points out a specific spot on the map. "What do you wanna bet that's where this Leshovik thing is holed up?"

"Okay, so I'll figure out how to kill it, then we can go after it."

"Do you think the girls are still going to be alive?" Dean asks. Sam shrugs.

"I don't know. Maybe. It doesn't say what the Leshovik does to them after it kidnaps them, so they might be."

"It would be nice if we could actually save someone this time," Dean muses. Sam doesn't comment. "Okay, I'm taking a nap. Wake me when you figure out how to kill this son of a bitch."

Instead of answering, Sam shuts his laptop. "Dean, first we need to talk."

"If this is about Cas…" Dean starts. Sam sighs.

"Yeah, it's about Cas," he replies.

"I don't wanna talk about it, Sammy," Dean says in a voice that clearly shows he thinks it's the end of the conversation. Apparently, Sam disagrees.

"Well, I don't care. Dean, you like Cas and I'm pretty sure that Cas likes you, so why-"

"Cas likes me?" Dean interrupts with a bitter laugh. "Yeah right. Cas is an angel of the Lord and I'm, like, sinning personified. And if he liked me so much, why would he fly off after we kissed?"

"Because, like you, he has no idea what the hell to do when he has feelings for someone!" Sam replies. "Cause you're both so freaking emotionally constipated that-"

"Sam, you should stop talking about things you don't know about," Dean says in a low, almost threatening tone. "You've never been to Purgatory, so I don't expect you to understand, but becoming 'emotionally constipated,' as you put it, is the only way to get through it."

"This has been going on since before Purgatory, Dean," Sam says in an exasperated voice. "You and Cas have the most unresolved sexual tension I've ever seen!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Sammy?" Dean demands as he unbuttons his shirt. Sam has the decency to look away, but he doesn't stop talking.

"Dean, Cas gave up _everything_ for you. And you kept wanting to believe in him over and over, even when everything and everyone else said you shouldn't."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I was in love with the guy," Dean replies, looking confused. Sam groans.

"First off, I'm pretty sure you were. Second, even if you weren't, Cas was in love with you, you big idiot!"

"Where the hell do you get that idea from?" Dean demands. Sam growls - legitimately _growls _- in frustration.

"Um, maybe because Cas _rebelled against Heaven_ for you. Or maybe because he _killed his family_ for you. Do the math, Dean, cause it shows that Cas has the biggest crush on you of all time."

"Look, I really am not in the mood for this right now," Dean says as he changes into a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep. Tell me when you figure out how to kill the thing we're fighting and not a minute before." Sam sighs, but nods. And Dean lies on the bed, trying to figure out if what Sam's saying could possibly, even remotely, be true.

* * *

It turns out the way to kill a Leshovik is to chop its head off, so Sam and Dean do so with relative ease. Of the four girls that were taken, one's dead and her body's missing, and another one is near death and probably won't last through the night, but the other two are relatively unharmed, aside from the massive psychological trauma. While it isn't exactly a victory - half the girls died - the brothers do manage to save more people than normal, so they're almost satisfied. Now they're on their way farther north to New York State, where Garth says he has a nest of vampires for them to take out. Sam insists on driving and Dean, not wanting an argument, agrees to let him, which leaves him able to sleep in the passenger seat. And which leaves him open to dream invasions.

This time, it's not an angel in his head, though. It's God.

_"Dean Winchester," Chuck/God says immediately, not wasting any time. "I have returned to Heaven and convinced the angels to stop persecuting Castiel. He is banned from returning to Heaven, though I leave him his Grace. You ought to inform him of that."_

_"He's not with me," Dean replies. Chuck/God frowns._

_"I thought he was going to be traveling with you," he replies. Dean sighs._

_"So did I, but apparently Cas has other ideas." Chuck/God looks almost…angry._

_"What occurred between the two of you that would cause him to leave?" he demands._

_"A kiss," Dean replies, almost angrily. "A freaking kiss. He flipped out and left because we kissed under the freaking mistletoe."_

_"You must find him, Dean Winchester," Chuck/God declares. Dean sighs._

_"I'm trying, but-"_

_"You must find him," Chuck/God repeats, interrupting Dean. "And find him quickly."_

Dean wakes up with a start. Sam looks over at him in confusion. "Hey, man, you okay?" he asks. Dean ignores him and grabs at his bag, which is in the back seat. "Dean, what's going on?" Sam asks as Dean paws through his things. Finally, he finds it; the bracelet Castiel made him out of his Grace. He triumphantly slips it on his wrist.

Nothing happens.

"Come on, you son of a bitch," Dean mutters. Still, there's no answer. Castiel doesn't appear. Dean's not sure why, but he's got this horrible feeling that if he doesn't get to Castiel - and soon - something terrible will happen.

"Dean!" Sam says sharply, yanking the car over to the side of the road. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"We need to find Cas," Dean says firmly. "You hear that, you son of a bitch? Get down here!" he yells at the sky. There's no answer.

"Why?" Sam demands. Dean turns to him.

"Because God told me to, okay? Because if we don't, I just feel like something really, _really _bad is going to happen. Look, can you just pray to him? He won't answer me."

"Um…sure," Sam replies. He closes his eyes. "Uh, Cas, we could use a hand. Can you come down?" Dean's half expecting a flutter of angel wings and a deep voice asking what's wrong, but it doesn't come. "Cas?" Sam calls again, but there's still no answer.

"Cas, damn it, get down here!" Dean yells angrily.

"Dean, he's not coming," Sam says softly. Dean's eyes narrow.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he replies in a low, determined voice. "Sam, move over. I'm driving." Looking a little confused, Sam gets out of the driver's seat. He and Dean switch places, then Dean peels down the road.

* * *

When they arrive in the-middle-of-nowhere, NY, the brothers find a motel and Sam almost immediately falls asleep. Dean takes the opportunity to sneak out. He's going to manipulate Castiel, which he almost feels bad about, but he's doing it for the angel's own good. He's going to use two things: the fact that the bracelet will inform Castiel if he's in mortal danger and the fact that Castiel always comes to save Dean when he needs it. Dean drives the Impala out into the empty land right outside of the town and pulls his machete out of the back. Then he goes off to fight the entire vampire nest. Alone.

There's six of them. He manages to kill two almost before they notice and is barely able to chop off a third's head, but by that point the other three are circling him, all ready to strike. One leaps at him, but before she can reach her target, a bright light fills the room and the vampire falls dead before Castiel, who's standing in front of Dean with all the fury of an avenging angel.

If the other two vampires knew what was good for them, they would have ran. But it turns out both are stupid, as one laughs - actually_laughs_ - at Castiel.

"We were told you'd be coming," he growls, his voice slurred oddly because of his fangs. "The angel, always tagging along after Dean Winchester. Benny told us you were a threat, but you don't look like much."

"Benny?" Dean asks, his heart sinking. The vampire smirks.

"Yeah, your friend Benny. He tried to take us out, but we caught him. He told us everything we could ever want to know about you, and then…" The vampire tosses a hat forward - Benny's hat - and it's soaked in blood.

"You bastard," Dean growls. He tries to move forward, but Castiel stops him.

"Benny told you everything?" he asks conversationally. The vampire smiles, showing all of his teeth. "But he only saw me in Purgatory, when I was severely weakened. How could he know everything?" The vampire's smile fades slightly. "Dean, close your eyes," Castiel commands. Dean does so, but even that doesn't protect him from the searing light. He hears screams, then the light dies down and Dean cracks open one eye cautiously. The vampires are all dead and Castiel is leaning against the wall, looking exhausted.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean asks, going over to the angel. Castiel closes his eyes.

"I used a good deal of my Grace for your bracelets," he says in a slightly shaky voice. "And I have been using a great deal of it in the past few days to avoid the other angels." Castiel moves to stand on his own, without the wall supporting him, but his legs can't hold his weight and Dean barely catches him in time. Castiel seems about as weak as he was when he first got out of Purgatory.

"Cas, I had a dream where…um…God came to me." It makes Dean sound like some sort of religious fanatic when he says it aloud, but it's the truth. "He said that the other angels were done coming after you as long as you stay here. But your Grace is still connected to Heaven or whatever, so you've still got your powers."

"And that's all you care about, isn't it?" Castiel asks bitterly. Dean's confused.

"What do you mean?"

Castiel sighs. "It is not of import," he replies. Dean's tempted to say that he's wrong, that damn right it's of "import," and what the hell does Castiel mean by what he said anyway? But Dean doesn't ask, so he's left standing silently with Castiel. Both of them have a hundred things they want to say, but neither knows how to say them.

* * *

**I'm not a huge fan of the way this ends, but I had to cut it off for so I could have this be a reasonable length and so I could have chapter 13. I hope you liked it! Review please!**


	13. Chapter 13

**So. This is the last chapter. It's almost hard to believe it. This has been so much fun. To the 81 reviewers, the 53 followers, and 28 people who favorited this, I love you guys so much! I'll miss this story, but everything has to come to an end.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.**

* * *

The silence that fills the entire abandoned barn is almost tangible. Dean breaks it first.

"We should go," he says, picking up his now-bloody machete. "If someone saw your lightshow, they'll come to see what's going on, and we really don't need to be seen with a bunch of bodies."

"I don't think I can fly yet," Castiel replies, shifting his shoulders in the way that Dean's learned means he's messing with his wings. The angel winces slightly. "I flew very quickly to get here and my wings are still sore."

"That's fine," Dean replies, going over to Castiel's side. "You're coming with me in the Impala anyway."

"Dean, I do not wish to be a nuisance," Castiel replies, looking down. "I was useless enough before, and I do not wish to force you to protect me again."

"You're not forcing me," Dean replies, putting an arm under Castiel's so the angel can use him for support. "I'm doing it because I want to. Now let's go out to the car. Do you think you can make it?"

"I am not a helpless child, Dean," Castiel replies as he pulls away, and he sounds a bit angrier than his passive tone before. Dean's glad that there's a bit more life in Castiel's voice.

"Never said you were," Dean replies. "The question still stands. Can you get to the car?"

"Yes," Castiel replies, his voice slightly stiff. He tries to take a step and almost falls as his legs refuse to support his weight. Dean grabs at him and holds him up.

"Whoa now. Why don't you let me help?" Castiel looks annoyed with having to ask for aid, but he does allow Dean to support some of his weight. Together, they make their way back to the Impala. Dean opens Castiel's door for him and the angel practically falls into his seat while Dean goes back around and gets into the driver's seat. Once they're both in the car, the tension that was already there in the barn seems to be ten times stronger.

"Sam and I have a motel room, if you want to stay with us," Dean offers after a minute of silence.

"If you would let me, I would like to recuperate there. I will be on my way as soon as I can fly," Castiel promises. Dean frowns slightly; that's not what he wants. But he doesn't say anything and just turns the keys in the ignition.

"Why did you go after six vampires without Sam?" Castiel asks after they've been driving for a minute or two. Dean grins slightly.

"To get your attention. You weren't answering either Sam or me."

"I apologize," Castiel replies, looking down. "I was busy."

"Busy where?" Dean asks, smoothly pulling onto the main road. Castiel's lip quirks in a tiny hint of a smile.

"The better question would be busy _when_," he corrects. "I was hopping through time to try and avoid my brethren. They kept following me, though. I was in sixteenth century England when I felt that you were in danger."

"No wonder you're drained," Dean says, shocked. "You came all the way from England in the fifteen hundreds just to save my sorry ass?"

"Of course," Castiel replies, looking confused as to why Dean would have trouble understanding that. "I would help you no matter where - or when - I was."

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. Castiel's loyalty will always astound him. "Well, when is your mojo going to recharge?" he asks. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. Castiel's expression turns stormy and he stares out the passenger window.

"Because that's the thing you care about, of course," Castiel says, his voice sharp. "Never mind anything else, you need to know when I will be able to continue helping you and Sam whenever either of you skin your knee."

"Cas, what-"

"Perhaps I should not return to your motel with you," Castiel interrupts, acting as if Dean hasn't even spoken. "If you only wish to use me for my 'mojo,' as you say, and I am currently unable to use it, why are you bothering with me?"

"Cas, where the hell is this coming from?" Dean demands. Castiel looks obstinately out the window and refuses to even glance over at Dean. "Damn it, Cas, you're acting as moody as a girl on her period."

"I believe I have reason to be angry," Castiel replies. His voice is tense and carefully emotionless. "I thought perhaps you actually saw me as a person, but now…"

"Cas, if this is about the kiss, that was-"

"This is not about the damn kiss, Dean!" Castiel yells, and Dean knows it's serious if Castiel's swearing. He pulls over and turns in his seat to look at Castiel better.

"Then what the hell is it about?" he demands. Castiel's tapping out a rhythm on his leg with his fingers, which looks like a remarkably human nervous habit. The angel's been showing more and more things that look like that recently and Dean wonders where they're coming from.

"Just continue driving, Dean. Or did you pull over to kick me out of the car?"

"Cas, stop with the 'Dean, you hate me so much' shit and explain to me why the hell you seem to think that I only care about you for your mojo," Dean snaps. Castiel grinds his teeth together.

"Because I have eyes, Dean," he replies in a very tense voice. "Because you only ever call me when you need something. Speaking of which, what is it that you need this time? You said you were trying to call me."

"I don't need anything, Cas," Dean replies. Castiel laughs bitterly.

"A social call. Your first one. Of course, it's a good four years too late, but it's the thought that counts, isn't that what they say?"

"Cas-"

"Dean, I know you only wish to have me as a friend so I can help you," Castiel interrupts. "While I wish it was different, I can deal with that. You don't have to worry that I won't aid you."

"Cas, I'm not worrying because you're not going to 'aid me' or whatever," Dean replies, finally able to get a full sentence in. "I'm worried because I don't know how you could have gotten such a completely wrong impression."

"Oh really?" Castiel demands. "Am I wrong? Then name one reason - just one - that you keep me as a part of the group, other than my abilities." When Dean doesn't immediately answer, Castiel's face twists into a mocking smile. "I thought so. You can't think of a reason because the only one is you needing my-"

"I have a reason," Dean blurts out, interrupting Castiel. The angel tips his head to the side, but somehow it doesn't look as sweet as it normally does.

"Really. What is it, pray tell?"

The words _Because I love you_ are fighting to come out, but Dean pushes them away. "Because you're the smartest person I know," he says instead. Castiel looks at him with an unsatisfied expression.

"Wonderful. You're right, you don't just want me for my abilities; you also want me for my knowledge. So any other angel that could do what I did and knew what I know would be suitable? That's wonderful to know, Dean. I wonder why-"

"Because I'm freaking in love with you, you bastard!" Dean bursts out. Castiel stops mid-word, his jaw dropping and his face rapidly losing color. "Shit," Dean whispers.

"Dean…"

"I get it, Cas," Dean replies as Castiel's voice trails off. "You don't feel the same way. It's okay. I understand. I mean, I never thought you would. And you know, I wasn't going to tell you. Especially after the kiss. I thought you might have figured it out, but you didn't but I've gone and told you, so it doesn't matter." Dean's babble is completely mindless; he's not even entirely sure of what he's saying. It just keeps pouring out in a seemingly never-ending stream of words. "And I really hope you don't hate me because of this. I promise I won't be weird about it if you just stick around. If you want to stay away, I would get that, but I hope that you don't cause I'd really prefer if you were still my friend even if you don't feel the same way that I feel. And I totally get that. I never expected any differently. You don't have to pretend or anything. I'm fine with it. It's okay. It's-"

"Dean?" Castiel asks softly, but Dean just continues blabbing over him.

"-completely okay. I'm not, like, hurt or whatever. You don't have to lie or anything to make me feel better. It's really okay if you don't feel the way I do and-"

"Dean!" Castiel says again, this time in a firmer voice. Dean stops talking. "May I speak?"

"Oh, sure, Cas. Yeah, of course you can talk. I didn't mean to be stopping you from talking or whatever. If I was stopping you I'm really sorry. It wasn't what I was trying to do and-"

"Dean?" Castiel asks, this time with a slightly amused expression.

"Yeah?"

"If I am to speak, I must be allowed a moment to talk."

"Oh. Right." Dean makes a show out of closing his mouth and covering it with his hand. Castiel smiles slightly at it, but his expression quickly sobers.

"Dean, I am an angel and as such do not experience human emotion the way you do." Dean's very tempted to take his hand off his mouth and say _Bullshit_, but he doesn't. It seems Castiel can tell, for he amends the statement. "That is, I did not used to experience human emotion the way you do. And I have never truly experienced love. The closest thing would be what I feel for my father, but I assume the love you are speaking of is very different." Dean's heart sinks. This doesn't sound promising. As opposed to Dean's random babble, Castiel seems to be putting a good deal of thought into each word he uses, always sure to be using exactly the right one. The pause before he continues again is longer this time. "But I did feel an emotion that I had never felt before. And it confused me. And, after a good deal of reflection, I believe I know what I felt." Castiel closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I believe I have felt love, Dean. And it is for you."

Dean's pretty sure his heart legitimately stops. "I wasn't going to say anything. I didn't think you felt the same way. But now…did you truly mean it?"

"Yes," Dean whispers. His voice is a little choked up, for God's sake, which is ridiculous, but true. "Oh…oh God. Oh wow. You feel the same way. Oh God."

"Don't blaspheme," Castiel scolds softly. Dean grins slightly.

"If you don't like it, then why don't you stop me?" he asks in a clear challenge. Castiel leans over and gently places his lips on Dean's. It's the most chaste kiss Dean's ever had, but somehow it's also the best by far in a million different ways. "I've been hoping we would do that again," Castiel admits shyly. Dean just grabs him by his trench coat and pulls him back in for another kiss.

* * *

Sam is ridiculously pleased by the fact that Dean and Castiel are now together and is bragging way too much about how he "always knew" and it was "so obvious." Dean wishes he would brag a little less about how he had basically been the one to get them together. Still, less than ten minutes after the happy couple comes back to the motel, Sam is very vocally wishing they would be a little less happy-couple-y.

"God, can you guys keep your hands off each other for five seconds?" Sam calls, pointedly not looking at his brother and the angel. Dean reluctantly takes his hand off Castiel's knee and pulls his lips away from Castiel's pale neck. The angel pulls his hand away from where he had it slipped up Dean's shirt.

"You were the one that kept trying to set us up," Dean replies. "As you've said about a million times." Sam groans.

"Well, I didn't think that getting you two together would make you immediately wish to…" Sam apparently can't figure out the word, so Castiel puts in a helpful suggestion.

"Consummate our relationship?"

Dean almost bursts out laughing at the horrified expression on Sam's face. "Are you two going to…tonight?" he asks awkwardly. Castiel looks surprised at the thought.

"Of course not. Not if you were in the room." Sam only looks a little relieved. Dean presses his fist against his mouth to keep from laughing. He's definitely going to let Castiel handle this conversation.

"Dean, can you-" Sam starts to ask, but Dean cuts him off.

"You two can handle this," Dean interrupts. "I'm gonna call Garth and tell him we've gotten rid of the vampires." Before either one can make a remark, Dean's holding his phone and steps out of the room to make the call. It's quick; he really has no desire to talk with Garth for an extended period of time. Garth gives them a job in Vermont that Dean assures him they'll take. Then he returns inside to find Sam, looking both embarrassed and horrified, and Castiel, looking confused and a little worried.

"Dean, thank God," Sam exclaims the instant he sees his brother. "I'm gonna, um, leave. You and Cas can do…whatever. Just not on my bed." With that, Sam practically runs out of the room. Dean looks over at Cas.

"Dude. What the hell did you say to him?"

"I am unaware of what caused Sam to react in this fashion," Castiel replies, looking puzzled. Dean shrugs.

"Well, whatever you said, it got us the room to ourselves." Castiel smiles as Dean goes over to him and kisses him hard on the lips. The angel allows himself to be pushed down on the bed, but he refuses to relinquish any control after that. Dean knows his angel - damn it feels good to think that! - is a pretty innocent (at least sexually) virgin, but he seems to be pretty good at knowing what he wants and getting it. His legs lock around Dean's waist and he pulls him in. Dean tries to pull away slightly, but Castiel won't allow it.

"No," he almost growls. "You can go when I say you can." For half a second, Dean's almost insulted and more than a little indignant, but then he realizes how hot this is and finds he doesn't really mind. He allows himself to be completely submissive to Castiel's roaming hands and, when the angel's fingers flicker over some more sensitive parts, he's very glad of his decision.

* * *

When Castiel hears the door open late that night, he looks up from his book - the copy of the Bible that Dean gave him with the beautiful images - to see Sam walk in. The younger Winchester looks a little tipsy, if not full-out drunk.

"Be quiet," he calls in a low voice. "Dean is sleeping." Sam looks in and grins fondly as he sees Dean snuggled up against Castiel on the bed.

"You two are so freaking cute," he replies, his voice slightly slurred. Castiel revises his earlier assessment; Sam seems to be more drunk than he thought he was.

"Hey, Cas," Sam says, walking over to his bed. Castiel looks at him.

"What?" he asks. Sam grins widely.

"Did you know that you and Dean could get married here? It's legal in New York." After his statement, Sam collapses onto his bed and falls asleep almost instantly, leaving Castiel sitting, shocked, with Dean on the other bed. His first, panicked thought is, _Will Dean wish to get married?_ Then he pushes it aside; he can't imagine Dean ever wishing to get married. Then that in turn scares him, because Dean's not one for long, committed relationships and Castiel wants more than just a fling.

Then Dean snuggles in closer to Castiel on the bed and mumbles something in his sleep that sounds like the angel's name. And in that instant, Castiel knows that whatever happens, they can deal with it. He'll fight to keep Dean if he has to. He'll make this work.

After all, if he and Dean truly love each other, there's nothing they can't do.

* * *

**And that's the end.**

**I have some other Supernatural fanfics in the works and I've left this one open for a potential sequel, but I don't know if that'll happen or not. At the moment, I'm working on a few different Destiel fics and a Samifer fic. I'm not sure when those will be published, but one of them (a season-6 Destiel fic called Have Faith) will probably be coming in the not-too-distant future. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and I hope you'll stick around for some more things I write! Bye, everyone!**


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